Scream of the Crucified
by J. Dragonsoul
Summary: SVU is called in when a nun is brutalized and murdered by a religiously motivated necrophiliac. With no suspects in sight, will they be able to catch the killer before he strikes again? Case-file.
1. opening

**[ SCREAM OF THE CRUCIFIED ]**

_In the criminal justice system, sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous. In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit.  
These are their stories._

**[ opening ]**

The aged stone walls echoed with an almost solemn air as Sister Margaret walked through the cloister, enjoying the early morning air. She was an older woman and her hair had grayed with the stress of her years but her eyes were still as sharp and bright as they had been in her youth. She stopped in front of a wooden door, noticing that it was cracked open slightly and the room inside was dark, indicating that it was still occupied. Sister Margaret looked at the watch on her wrist and was surprised to see that it read 8:07. Most, if not all, of the sisters were already awake and moving about at this hour.

"Sister Abigail," Sister Margaret started, pushing open the door and flipping on the light switch, "are you alrigh…" Her words trailed off, dying quickly as her mind struggled to absorb the horrific sight that was laid out in front of her. The woman let out a scream and turned around, running blindly from the room. Her terrified cry echoed through the abbey, breaking the calm silence that had reigned mere moments before.

Her chaotic mind moved her lips to scream out fearfully, "Sister Abigail's dead! She's dead!" She collapsed into the embrace of another sister who had heard her scream and come running along with many others. Sobbing into the other woman's shoulder, Sister Margaret whispered, "Oh, Lord. Save us from the Evil One and his servants…"

Another woman who had arrived when Sister Margaret screamed emerged pale-faced from Sister Abigail's room. Quietly, but firmly, she said, "Call the police."


	2. the body

**Disclaimer:** You know the routine. I don't own the show or the characters and I also don't know why we do these disclaimers. But hey! If it makes lawyers happy then okay, sure. It's just a waste of two minutes of your life and mine.  
However, I do own the original characters and basic idea created and used herein this story. So yay for that.

This is going to be your standard SVU fare, therefore there's no foreseeable relationship stuff between the detectives of the unit in the future of this fic. Chapters will generally be one scene long, unless the scene is really short. All comments, suggestions and corrections are most welcome (if you give me a lot of those, more reviews, right? XD). I don't live in New York so I dunno if there's an actual abbey there. But, humor me about that, okay? Also, I have no idea of the mechanics of abbeys and nuns and stuff 'cept by what I've seen in _The Sound of Music_ so, forgive me about any errors I might make.

The title of this fic was inspired by the Acid Bath song _Scream of the Butterfly_. Just kinda replaced the last word of the title. o.o;; Yup.

And lastly, I have a **livejournal** (link's on my profile) that I keep updated on how my progress on my fics is going. Check it out if you ever want to know what I'm up to and when the next update will be.

**[ Sisters of the Savior Abbey  
Sunday, July 18th ]**

"What do you got?" Elliot Stabler asked the medical examiner as he and his partner, Olivia Benson, arrived on the scene.

"Time of death looks like after midnight but no later than three and from my cursory examination, what killed her is pretty much what it looks like," Warner answered, sighing as she stared at the disfigured body in front of them. She pulled her plastic gloves off her hands and they snapped loudly. "After he tied her to the bed, he made an incision under her rib cage here," Warner gestured across her own belly to illustrate, "then reached in and up, grabbed hold of the heart with one hand and with the other, which was still holding the knife, severed the major arteries and pulled it out." Warner looked firmly at Olivia who was grimacing. "Hold onto your breakfast, detective. It gets worse.

"After he was done with that, he took a small electric saw and cut out portions of her lower rib cage. He then used those pieces to nail her to the bed in a position indicative of crucifixion. This, however, is where it gets interesting." She turned back to the bed and pointed to the body's unharmed hands. "He put the rib pieces through her lower arms, between the radius and the ulna."

"Wait! But that's not how it went," Elliot protested. "Jesus was crucified through his palms."

Warner shook her head. "Actually, it's been proved that if someone was crucified that way, the palms could not support the body's weight. This way," she gestured toward the rib piece through the area under the wrist, "was how it was done. Using nails instead, of course." She smiled grimly. "The only reason the Church continues to portray Jesus being crucified through the palms is because it's an almost impossible task to change hundreds of years of tradition."

"What about that?" Olivia pointed to a phrase written on the wall above the dead nun's bed. "Is it written in the victim's blood?"

Warner nodded. "We're pretty sure it is."

"'_If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee_'," Olivia murmured, reading the words aloud. "What's that from? The Bible?"

"Yup, and here's the victim's, open to that exact page. The Book of Matthew, chapter five, verse twenty-nine: '_And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell._' King James Version." Elliot handed it to a man with CSU. "Have that dusted for prints."

"You think he was referring to her heart?" Olivia asked.

"Makes sense," Elliot turned back to face Warner. "Anything else?"

"We're gonna run a tox screen on the victim. Just in case. I think she was probably drugged because neither of the sisters sleeping to either side of her room heard anything. And on the subject of that heart, the perp took it with him."

Olivia looked troubled. "SVU was called on this but from what you've described so far, there's nothing that calls for our presence."

Warner grimaced. "Well, it seems your perp had a fetish for the dead."

"A necrophiliac? Oh, that's just beautiful." Olivia and Elliot's faces reflected their disgust.

"Yup. Have fun." Warner smiled, taking the bite out of the verbal irony.

"Right," Elliot nodded and then moved toward the door, saying to Olivia, "Let's go talk to the woman who found the victim."

Olivia followed him out. "This is insane. Who would want to kill a nun?"

"I have no idea," Elliot replied honestly. They walked silently down the cloister hall, passing doors leading to the living quarters of other nuns on their way to the Mother Superior's private office.

They arrived in the waiting room to find an older woman sitting on a couch, drying her wet eyes with a tissue. "Sister Margaret?" Olivia asked, looking inquiringly at the woman.

The sister looked up and smoothed out her habit with unsteady hands as she replied, "Yes, that's me."

"I'm Detective Benson and this is my partner, Detective Stabler. Is it all right if we ask you a few questions?"

"Oh, it's quite all right. Please sit down." Olivia took the offered seat but Elliot remained standing.

"About what time did you discover the body?"

"8:07 exactly. I remember looking at my watch."

"Do you know anyone who would want to hurt Sister Abigail?" Elliot asked in a gentle tone.

"I don't. Who would want to hurt any of us sisters?" Sister Margaret asked with tears in her eyes, unknowingly echoing Olivia's own question. "We clothe the poor, take care of the sick, and feed the hungry. We think of only others and harm no one. Especially Sister Abigail. She was still young, only twenty-three, and filled with all the exuberance accompanying such an age. Everyone loved her. At least, we thought they did…"

Olivia stood up from where she had been sitting as Elliot added, "Well, if you do think of anyone, Sister, be sure to give us a call, okay?" He handed her a card with their number on it.

Sister Margaret nodded and picked up another tissue, gently wiping her eyes with it. "Do not worry, detectives," she said with a quiet authority. "Even if you do not catch whoever did this horrible deed, he cannot hide from the Lord our God. This man will pay for his crimes in the end."

"Amen," a strong voice exclaimed from behind Olivia and Elliot. They turned to face a short woman, round but with a bullish look to her. Elliot studied the woman while she returned the look, the crow's feet at the corner of her eyes bunching tightly as she scrutinized the two detectives.

"You are?" Elliot asked the question although he already had figured out the answer.

"The Mother Superior, Caitlin Bates. And you?" She had an air of command around her that was almost electric and a face that promised dire consequences should anyone challenge her authority.

"Detectives Stabler and Benson. We're here investigating the murder of one of your sisters."

"Ah, yes. Come." She turned and walked into her office. Olivia looked to Elliot and said with a shrug, _Why not?_ They followed after her quickly.

Her office was Spartan, the only decoration on the wall being a large crucifix with Jesus hanging from it and a painting of the same individual surrounded by a group of little children.

"Sit." The Mother Superior was already seated behind a large desk and Olivia and Elliot quickly made themselves comfortable in two plush seats in front of the desk... or at least tried to. Although the chairs looked extremely soft and agreeable, Olivia discovered that there was no position short of standing up that did not leave one unpleasantly placed. Elliot ignored this fact immediately and focused on the figure behind the desk. It took a moment before Olivia noticed hidden amusement dwelling in the Mother Superior's steely eyes and figured the chairs had been bought because of that reason. She immediately stopped fidgeting, refusing to show her discomfort for the crotchety old woman.

She debated for a moment whether to address the woman by her title or as "Ms. Bates" and decided to go with the title just to be safe. "Mother Superior, can you think of anyone who would have wanted to harm Sister Abigail?"

The woman looked at them, her expression almost mocking. "Of course not."

Olivia gritted her teeth at the woman's condescending tone. "Is there anything you can tell us to help us with our investigation?"

"Yes, actually. I thought that since you are most likely going to concentrate your suspicions on our male staff, it would be wise for you to know that our grounds are open to the public. I believe that expands your suspect pool somewhat." The Mother Superior smiled thinly.

_Yeah, to just about all of New York, _Olivia thought, irritated. "Thank you for telling us that. We appreciate any and all information concerning this case."

The woman nodded. "Of course."

"Speaking of your staff, we're going to need a list of their names, phone numbers, and addresses," Elliot said.

"I anticipated this." The Mother Superior picked up small packet of paper off her desk and handed it to him. "I believe you will find the information you need there."

"Thanks." Elliot stood up and exited the office, Olivia following him.

"Well, she was really helpful," Olivia murmured with more than a little spite.

"She's just disconcerted because of the way Sister Abigail died. She probably wants to get this over with as quickly as possible."

Olivia sighed, imagining the investigation ahead. "Don't we all."


	3. witness

**[ Special Victims Unit  
Squad Room  
Sunday, July 18th ]**

"What did the sisters tell you of the victim's actions the night before?" Captain Donald Cragen asked Elliot and Olivia in the unit's squad room.

Elliot shrugged, glancing at the captain from where he stood at the coffee machine, fixing himself a cup. "Not much. She ate dinner with them, attended evening service and then retired for the night."

"Any ideas for who might have killed her?"

"Are you kidding?" John Munch asked from where he sat on the edge of his desk, looking at Cragen from over the top of his tinted glasses. "These are the ladies who help out at women's shelters, homeless shelters, and orphanages. They're walking saints. They have no enemies."

"Well, it was obviously religiously motivated," Dr. George Huang, their resident forensic psychiatrist, said as he looked up from flipping through what had been compiled so far in the case file. "Look at the passage from the Bible that was quoted on the wall. '_And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell._' The killer removed the victim's heart from her body. He felt that part of her body was offensive, that it would keep her from entering into Heaven." Huang shook his head, closing the file. "Or maybe it was what her heart made her feel that was what he believed was wrong. At any rate, he took it with him because he didn't want it to be present, to prevent her from being judged by it."

"Would he keep it?" Olivia asked.

Huang shrugged. "It's a possibility, although it's more likely that he disposed of it because he believed it to be tainted by evil. He either knew the victim well, or believed he did. He's concerned for her eternal soul and through killing her the way he did, he's pleading with God to forgive her and accept her into Heaven."

"Well, that's one place he's not going to be setting foot into any time soon," Munch commented with a deadpan expression.

"What set him off?" Fin asked from where he sat.

Huang shrugged. "It's impossible to tell at this point."

Elliot walked over to his desk from the coffee machine, sipping at his steaming cup of the heavily caffeinated beverage. "So, if he's a religious nut, why'd he kill on Sunday? Last time I checked with my priest, that's a major no-no."

"That's funny. I was under the assumption that killing anytime was up there in the big list of _don'ts_." Munch joked.

Huang thought for a moment. "Well, he could be killing on a Sunday to call special attention to the deed from God."

Cragen held up a hand to stop anyone else from speaking. "I think what I'd like to know the most is; will he kill again?"

"Most definitely. He believes he's on a mission to cleanse the faith and now that he's started, I don't think he'll be easily stopped."

"'We're on a mission from God.'" Elliot quoted into his coffee cup.

Huang smiled. "Something like that, Elliot. And it's because of that belief that when he finds another person whose soul he thinks needs to be cleansed, he will kill again. Although, he might only do it on Sundays because of the religious significance, even kill again tonight."

"Whatever happened to those good old confessionals for cleansing souls?" Munch asked sarcastically. "If memory serves me, they're a lot less painful and a great deal less messy."

"What about the necrophilia?" Olivia inquired.

"I think it was sideline, something he never meant to happen," Huang answered, "CSU reported that the killer tried to clean up the body as best he could to eradicate all evidence that anything of that nature occurred. He's probably very ashamed that he committed such blasphemy."

"Well, even if the guy's not going to attack until next Sunday, I'd like you all to get to work now on finding him so we can put him away before someone else dies," Cragen growled, "Munch, Fin; you two start checking in with the staff of the church. See if they all check out okay. Elliot, Olivia; visit the places where the sister worked frequently. Try to find out if the impossible happened and someone actually had a grudge against the vic."

. . .

Munch and Fin stood in the hot kitchen of the church, both sweaty and very irritated. For the last hour, they had been questioning the handful of employees the church had and none had been forthcoming in any way. "I don't see why we bother," Fin growled angrily. "They each say the same goddamn thing. Everyone loved Sister Abigail, they can't imagine who would want to do this, and no, they haven't seen anyone suspicious around her or her room. The only thing these guys wanna talk about are their life stories and how the nuns have been so kind to them." Fin sneered.

Munch looked over the rims of his glasses at his partner. "You do realize that they're probably so close-mouthed because the majority of them are in this country illegally? The only reason they're still here and employed is because of the pity and mercy of the good sisters."

Fin shook his head. "Who's next on the list?"

Munch took a copy out of his pocket of the paper that the Mother Superior had given Elliot and Olivia. He glanced it over. "A Mr. Abdullah Ali."

Fin looked around the staff working in the kitchen. He noticed a young man hunched over a cutting board. His facial features, color of his hair and skin marked him to be of Arabic descent. "I think that's him over there." Fin said, jerking his head in the man's direction.

Munch nodded and pocketed the paper as the two detectives walked through the kitchen to stand near the man. "Hey, can we talk to you for a minute?" he asked.

The man looked up and saw the badges they held up and nodded. "Sure." He wiped his hands off on a nearby cloth and led them to a little door at the back of the kitchen that opened to a small, cool room with a couch, couple chairs and a TV set. The man sprawled out on the couch and looked up at them with a disarming smile. "You're the detectives asking about Sister Abigail, right?"

"Yeah. Did you know her?" Fin asked. He was a little surprised to notice the man didn't speak English with the stilted accent typical of those of Arabic descent living in America. However, judging by his age, he was young enough to have been born and raised in the country.

"Just a bit. From what I knew of her, she was a nice lady. Although," Abdullah chuckled, "that could be said for all the sisters."

"Did you see anyone suspicious hangin' around the sister the night she died?"

"Yeah." The detectives exchanged a look of surprise. Finally, a witness! Abdullah sat up straighter and his expression became serious. "I was working late that night, had a lot of stuff to clean up in here. When I left, I saw someone, a man, walking down that hallway, walking towards the sister's room."

Munch leaned forward slightly. "Did you get a look at his face?"

Abdullah thought about it for a moment. "No, it was too dark."

"Did you see anything about him that sticks out in your mind?"

The brown-skinned man shook his head. "He was walking with a little bit of a limp, that's all."

"Well, thanks," Fin said and Abdullah nodded, standing up and exiting the room. The two detectives looked at each other.

"Better than nothing." Munch shrugged.

"Well, it practically is nothin'," Fin grumbled. "Who we gotta talk to next?"

Munch was about to look at the list when his phone rang. He picked it up, answering, "Munch." He listened for a moment, then said, "Okay, we'll be there." He hung up.

"What was that about?"

"It was the M.E. She said we should come down to see her."

"Let's go."


	4. inquiries

**[ Trinity Children's Home  
Sunday, July 18th ]**

Olivia rang the doorbell of the orphanage and she and Elliot only had to wait a few moments before a short, stout woman answered it. They showed the woman their badges as Olivia introduced them. "Hi, I'm Detective Benson and this is my partner, Detective Stabler. We're investigating the death of one of the nuns who visited here and we were hoping you might be able to help us out."

"What? Who died?" the woman ushered them into the building, her expression concerned.

"Sister Abigail."

"Oh, that poor woman. The children will be devastated." The woman shook her head sadly. "My name's Wendy Thompson. I'm mainly the one who runs this place."

"Nice to meet you." Olivia said as both her and her partner smiled politely at the woman. "How well did you know her?"

"Fairly well, I'd like to think. Whenever she came over here, we talked about anything and everything. She was quite the conversationalist."

"Did she talk to any of the children?" Elliot asked.

"Yes, quite often."

"It okay if I talk to them?"

"Oh, sure. Go right ahead."

Elliot left Olivia to continue talking to Wendy while he stepped into a common room of sorts where children of assorted ages played, talked or occupied themselves in some other manner. Elliot crouched down by a little girl who was playing with a doll by herself. She was wearing a dress with a floral pattern and she had long blonde hair that was curly and bounced around her face when she moved her head. He smiled at her and in a friendly tone said, "Hey there."

She kept her eyes on the doll in front of her and showed him no response.

"My name's Elliot. Do you know Sister Abigail? One of the nuns who comes here?" He was careful to keep her existence in the present tense when he spoke of her. He didn't want the children to know that the woman was dead as it would upset them.

She remained quiet although he saw from the corner of his eye other children glancing his way as they eavesdropped.

A boy who looked to be about nine years old marched up to Elliot and grabbed his arm, tugging him away. He had a stubborn look on his face, hardened by his dark brown eyes, and his brow was furrowed with annoyance. "Marie won't talk to you. She won't talk to anyone. I'll talk to you though."

Elliot shifted his gaze to the boy. "What's your name?"

The boy let go of Elliot's arm and jabbed his thumb into his chest, announcing proudly, "I'm Marcus!"

"Do you know Sister Abigail?"

"Yeah, she's really nice. She brings us toys and candy and other cool stuff. The other nuns only bring us clothes." Marcus' nose scrunched up in disgust and Elliot remembered the days when he was a child and hated getting clothes as gifts and he nodded with a smile.

"Toys are definitely better than clothes. What do you talk to her about?"

"Anything. She likes talking."

"Does she ever talk about her life at the abbey?" Again, from the corner of his eye, Elliot saw the other children slowly creeping closer to the stranger in their midst, encouraged by their friend's interactions with him.

Marcus looked disgusted again. "Sometimes, though it's boring stuff. She just talks about all that church stuff they do."

"What about the people there?"

Marcus shrugged. "Dunno. Can't remember." The look on his face became eager. "Do you have any candy?"

Elliot knew he didn't but he patted his pockets for show before shaking his head. "No, I don't. Sorry."

"Oh." Marcus turned and wandered off, obviously finding Elliot no longer worthy of his time. The other children drifted away as well and Elliot quickly found himself alone with the little girl again. He looked at her and found her pale blue eyes staring at him.

The girl, Marcus had called her Marie, stood up and walked close to him, leaning in until he felt her breath tickle his ear. "Abby said she thought he was cute." She spoke in the barest whisper, as though what she was telling him was a something governments would seal away in files marked in big red letters 'Top Secret'.

"Who?" Elliot found himself whispering back in as low a tone as she had spoken.

"Him, the one she talks to."

"Who though?"

The girl pulled back and stood, staring at Elliot for a long moment with eyes that seemed to unknowingly mourn the death of the nun. Then she sat back down on the ground and returned to playing with her doll. The detective stayed crouched on his heels beside her, waiting to see if she had anything more to say but she remained as silent as when he had first arrived.

"Elliot?" He looked up to find Olivia staring at him.

He stood and felt his legs practically groan in protest as they were shifted from the position they had grown accustomed to. "Yeah?"

"Get anything?"

Elliot shook his head. "The little girl said something that might've been worthwhile, but I couldn't get much out of her."

Wendy came up behind the two detectives as they began moving towards the door that they had come in. "Oh, little Marie spoke to you, Detective Stabler?" She shook her head sadly, making a tsking sound. "That poor child's not all together. She's a little slow. She probably doesn't know what she's saying. I doubt that it means anything."

"Did Sister Abigail spend a lot of time with her?" Elliot asked.

"Yes, actually." Wendy looked a tad perplexed. "She talked to that child constantly, although she barely ever got a response from the poor little thing."

"Thanks for your time," Elliot said with a smile as he and Olivia exited the building. The door snapped shut behind them and Olivia looked at him as they stood on the sidewalk outside the orphanage.

"What'd the girl say to you?"

"She said 'Abby said she thought he was cute.'"

Olivia lifted an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"I have no idea. I tried to get her to tell me who 'he' was but she only said 'the one she talks to.'"

"You think it means something?"

Elliot sighed, looking around. "I don't know, Liv. It could mean a lot of things. Or else it could mean absolutely nothing. There's just no way to know right now"

"Maybe it'll make sense later," Olivia said, trying to make her partner feel more optimistic."

"Yeah, maybe…" Elliot took a breath and slowly let it go. "So, where to next?"

Olivia started walking down the street. "Well, there's a homeless shelter that the sister frequented. It's just a couple blocks over this way so we've gotta go check it out."

"Sounds like fun," Elliot said sarcastically as he followed his partner.

**…**

"So you barely spoke to the sister at all?" Elliot asked the man who was the closest person to someone in charge of the shelter.

The man nodded. "She came with the others, did her thing and left. That's it. Even the sisters try to get out of this place as fast as they can."

"I can't imagine why," Elliot murmured, gazing around the crowded cafeteria. He could smell the occupants' unpleasant aroma as soon as he had stepped in the door.

"Well, we don't exactly cater to New York's finest," the man groused. "I have stuff to do. I think we're done talking, so excuse me." He walked back into the kitchen area, presumably to check on the dinner that was being prepared.

"You here about that nun that was killed?" a man teetered up to them. He was skinny and his eyes were wide. His bleached hair was plastered to his skull and he had a frozen grin stretched across his face. It was an expression you would expect to see in a painting of Death. "I saw it on the TV, on the news this morning," he continued. "You here about her?"

"Yeah." Elliot turned to look at him. Olivia was standing back, assessing the man. "You knew her?"

"A bit, you could say. She was a real nice lady. Always talking. I like to talk too, so we got along just fine. We'd talk whenever she was here. She was a mighty fine woman."

"What would you talk about?" Elliot felt his hopes climb somewhat but he knew not to let them up too high. The man was obviously hyped up on amphetamines and people on speed liked to talk a lot but usually it was all shit.

"Whatever was on the news, whatever games were going. We talked about anything. Yup, she was a real fine woman. Too bad she was a nun, if you know what I mean," the man winked at Elliot and began to leer at Olivia in a most unsavory way. "Yeah, she was a fine piece of ass. Kinda like your girl there." He licked his lips.

Elliot took a sudden step forward and grabbed the man's shirt roughly. He leaned in close to the speed freak, whose eyes were impossibly wide only now it was with fear, and growled, "Don't look at her like that anymore if you like your face the way it is." He shoved the man away in disgust.

The speed freak lifted his hands up to fend off the blows he expected would come raining down any moment. "Hey, hey, man! She's yours, I got it! I won't look! No need for violence! I'm gone! Gone!" He continued muttering as he backed away, finally turning and scampering off in terror.

Elliot turned to Olivia, a small smile on his face. "Yeah, definitely my favorite part of the job. Shall we go?"

"Sure, and I've got some good news for you."

"What?" Elliot held the door open for her and they walked out of the building. "You sneak off and find someone who actually has some information while I was talking to that junkie?"

"Nope, this is the last place we had to visit."

"Great. I think I prefer that news."

"Yeah, now you can go home to Kathy and the kids." Olivia smiled as he started to protest. "Come on, Elliot. It's late, we've spent the whole afternoon and most of the evening checking out these places, there's nothing left for us to do tonight. Just drop me off at the precinct and go home."

"Well," Elliot thought about it as they started walking back to the car, "you are kinda right… there is really nothing else for us to do tonight…"

"Just drop me off and I'll report to the Captain. It's not like we have news he's not expecting to get. This was a bit of a long shot anyway."

"Okay, I give in," Elliot said, smiling his thanks at his partner. "I'll go home."


	5. surprises

** Office of the Medical Examiner  
Sunday, July 18th **

"So what was so pressing that you needed us to come down here so you could tell it to us in person?" Munch asked Warner when he and Fin arrived.

The woman looked up from where she was flipping through some papers. "Well, the tox screen came back on your vic."

"That was fast," Munch remarked.

"Well, I put in a special request for a quick test and speedy delivery of the results just because I like you guys," Warner answered with a small smile.

"You find somethin'?" Fin asked, although he and his partner already knew that she had since she had asked them to come down to see her.

Warner nodded. "Your victim took LSD before she died."

Munch and Fin stared at Warner in surprise. "Acid? Are you kidding?" Munch's tone was incredulous.

"That's what I said. I thought someone was playing a practical joke on me so I had them retest the sample twice, but each time it came back still positive." Warner's expression was puzzled.

"This is a nun we're talking about, a woman who swore herself to God, and you're telling me she took acid? What is the church coming to?" Munch's tone was exasperated. "Priests molesting little boys, nuns dropping acid; next thing you know, someone's gonna bust the pope for prostitution."

"Well, I don't know where in the Bible it specifically states that drugs are bad, but I'm sorry that I was the one who had to further tarnish your already soiled view of the Catholic Church." Warner's expression betrayed her amusement. However, as she picked up the autopsy report, she straightened out her face. Handing the papers to Munch, she began speaking once more as he glanced over her findings. "Sorry to burst your bubble though, but I don't think she took it knowingly.

"You see, I examined the contents of her stomach and I couldn't find any traces of blotter paper, capsules or the other forms that it comes in. I think your perp slipped her it as a liquid, probably by putting it into her drink when she was looking the other way. Since LSD is tasteless, she'd never know what hit her. And your perp, he's either a dealer or else he takes it quite often."

"What makes you say that?" Fin inquired.

"Well, first off, he was actually able to find it in the liquid form. That stuff's pretty rare in circulation, blotters being the most common form nowadays, so he's got some connections. Second, he knew how much to give her to put her in the shape he wanted her."

"What do you mean by that?" Munch handed the report to Fin and looked back at Warner.

"He gave her a massive dose; 2,000 micrograms or so, from what I can tell."

Munch raised an eyebrow. "Micrograms? That doesn't sound like much."

"Well, it is considering that the usual dosage that you find on the market's at about 50-100 micrograms. He wanted her so far gone she wouldn't know if she was here or there."

"Maybe he convinced her into thinkin' it was a religious experience or somethin'," Fin suggested with a shrug.

"Some experience," Munch said sarcastically. "'Here, I have an idea! Let's reenact the crucifixion! You be Jesus!'"

Fin looked at Warner appreciatively. "Thanks. You find anythin' else, you know where to reach us."

"Yeah, now get out of here," Warner ordered with a smile. "I've got two more autopsies to perform tonight or else a couple of other detectives are going to crucify _me_."

**… **

"Good morning, everyone!" Munch called out breezily as he walked into the squad room the next day. "I trust that everyone slept well last night," he said as his fellow detectives stared at him with eyes that claimed the opposite fact to be true.

"What's up with you?" Fin asked, staring at his partner.

Munch sat down in his chair, answering, "I, my dear partner, am currently running on no sleep whatsoever and four large cups of coffee after spending the whole night watching those late-night infomercials in an effort to forget about this case and make my mind sink into the blissful realm of the unconscious state."

"Just wait," Elliot said as he walked back from the coffee machine, gesturing at Munch with his mug, "In less than six hours, he's going to come crashing down faster than a Boeing 747 with engine failure."

"Then we better get working while I'm still reliable for coherent thought," Munch retorted with a smile.

"John, you've never been coherent." Olivia chuckled, her remark making Fin and Elliot smile.

Cragen walked out of his office, his expression somber. "Sorry to rain on your parade, people, but we've got another vic."

**…**

"She looks to be fifteen or so and I'd say dead for at least six hours," the medical examiner on scene explained to Elliot and Olivia as he pointed toward the tarp-covered body. "She was strangled from behind, probably with a rope, until she was barely conscious and too weak to struggle, then the killer dragged her over here, behind these trees and bushes."

"For privacy," Elliot said with a grimace as he looked around the foliage surrounding the well-concealed crime scene.

The M.E. nodded. His own expression would be accurately described as 'green around the gills.' "If it hadn't been for those two teenagers who came here to get a little privacy of their own, I doubt we would've found this body for three to four days from now, maybe even a week." He returned his attention to the body. "So, after he brought her here, he nailed her to the ground with wooden stakes he had brought along and then cut out her heart, removing it through her stomach area by reaching up through the inside of the ribcage to cut it out."

"He nailed her down before cutting out the heart this time," Olivia observed. "If he had used her ribs as the nails again, she probably wouldn't have lived through him cutting them out and them nailing them in."

"That and it's a public park," Elliot said, looking around. "I think a saw, even a small one, would've made too much noise for his liking."

"No signs of rape?" Olivia asked.

The man shook his head. "Not from my cursory examination, no. But, before you go, there's one last thing you should see, detectives." He walked over to the tarp and pulled it back over the girl's legs to give the detectives an unobstructed view of them. Carved into the dead girl's flesh were a series of seemingly random numbers.

On the left, they read:  
4  
1, 49  
9-13, 14, 17, 29, 42  
4, 21  
11, 17, 22, 42  
14-16, 42

On the right were:  
124, 14, 16, 27  
21, 17, 13  
19, 17, 9  
23-25  
124, 7, 17, 9, 16

Olivia stared at the numbers for a moment, then turned to Elliot. "Looks like some kind of code to me. You any good with puzzles?"

"Nope," he answered, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "especially after the amount of sleep I got. Munch wasn't the only one with a problem last night."

"Same here." Olivia looked at the M.E. "Make sure to get pictures of these sent to us," she told him and he nodded in acknowledgement. She turned back to her partner. "Now, let's go see if Munch and Fin have scared up any potential witnesses."

* * *

Okay, first off, I posted this at 1 AM so forgive any errors that might be scattered about. I tried to catch them all and I think I succeeded but there's always a couple that slip through.  
Secondly, that info about LSD was taken from a couple different, but reliable, online sources so I'm pretty sure it's accurate. Feel free to correct though if you think it's not.  
And I'm always willing to hear feedback on other stuff too. If I'm writing characters right, if Munch's dialogue sucks or not, etc. etc.  
Finally, um... oh yeah! If you want to try and figure out the code, go ahead. I think it's kinda simple (but then again I know what it is) and it's just something I added in on a whim... anyway, be my guest. 


	6. backtracking

**.backtracking.**

**Central Park  
****Monday, July 19th**

Munch and Fin stood near two teenagers who were sitting on a park bench while they recovered from what they had seen. The girl's face was red and tear streaked as she buried in her boyfriend's chest, clutching at him as though to assure herself he was alive and not dead like the corpse they had unfortunately found. He rubbed her back slowly in comfort as he talked to the detectives. "We were just walking through the park when we found her. Wish we never had too."

"Those bushes are out of the way," Fin said. "Why'd you two go over there?"

"We went off to get a little privacy, you know." The teenage looked slightly embarrassed.

"And how old are you two?" Munch looked disapprovingly at the couple over the rims of his glasses.

"Well, I'm seventeen and she's, uh…" he stumbled for a moment, "seventeen too."

"I see." Munch made a point of looking at a notepad he had in his hand. "Well, there must be some kind of mistake here because according to the police officers who arrived on the scene, your girlfriend here is fifteen."

The teen's face fell and he exclaimed in a panicked voice, "Oh man, please don't tell her parents or anything! They don't know we're going out and her dad, he's crazy! He'd totally flip out and wail on both of us! I'd never get to see her again!"

"Much as I disapprove of your relationship, there's really nothing we can do about it. We have no evidence concerning your intentions once you got behind those bushes." Munch paused for a moment before continuing in a caustic tone, "Although next time you might want to consider a place with a bed. It's a little more comfortable."

Fin gave his partner a look then said, "You have a car or do you need an officer to take you home?"

The boy drew himself up as though to recover his dignity in the act. "I can drive us. I've got a car."

"Good." Fin and Munch left the teens and walked over to meet Olivia and Elliot who were heading towards them from where they had been inspecting the body.

"What'd they see?" Elliot called out.

Fin shook his head. "Nothing, by the time they found the body, the perp was long gone."

Olivia shook her head angrily. "Damn. Do we have any idea of who she is?"

"No I.D. but one of the cops gave me this." Fin showed them an evidence bag containing a ticket stub to a club. "It's dated last night. Found a couple a feet away from the girl. I'm thinkin' we should head over there with a picture and see if it jogs anyone's memory."

Elliot nodded, giving them a Polaroid taken of the girl's face. "You go do that. Liv and I will finish up here then go tell the Cap'n what we've found. Also, there were numbers carved into the victim's legs. It looks like some kinda code but neither of us can figure it. We're gonna show it to Huang and see if he can make some sense out of it."

_.break._

Munch and Fin got out of their car. Munch looked at the building appraisingly. "Nice place," he commented as they walked towards the door.

His partner nodded. "It's gotta cost an arm and a leg to get in here."

Munch glanced at him. "Do I detect a hint of resentment in your voice?"

"I haven't been in one of these places in months," Fin replied, declining to elaborate on whether it was his schedule or money situation that didn't allow him to go clubbing with the rest of New York. He flashed his badge at an employee who was cleaning up the building and she wiped her hands off on a clean rag as they approached her and Fin introduced them. "I'm Detective Tutuola and this is my partner, Detective Munch. Can you tell us who was lettin' people into your club last night?"

The woman eyed them testily. "What's this about?"

"We have reason to believe that a murder victim came here last night." Munch showed her the photo of the girl. "Recognize her?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm not good with faces. You're gonna wanna talk to Greg. He's over there." She pointed to a tall, burly man lifting up chairs and setting them upside-down to rest on the tables.

"Thanks." They walked over to Greg who kept working as he asked them, "What do you wanna know, officers?"

"She come here last night?" Fin replied as Munch showed him the photo.

Greg stopped to look at the picture. His bushy eyebrows shifted as he glowered at the picture in thought. "Yeah, I think so. First time I saw her here though."

"Isn't she kind of young to be allowed into an establishment that serves alcohol?" Munch asked. Although his tone was friendly, the accusation was still evident.

"Yeah, I thought so too, but the guy she was with gave me her I.D. and it looked legit so I had to let 'em in. You know how it goes. Nothing I could do." Greg shrugged.

Fin and Munch pounced on the new information, Munch quickly inquiring, "She was with someone?"

Greg nodded. "Yeah, one of our regulars."

"What's his name?" Fin asked.

"I don't think I'm supposed to tell you that." Greg turned his back to the detectives and starting putting the chairs on the tables again.

"Hey, listen, man!" Fin snapped angrily. He grabbed the man's shirt and turned Greg to look him in the eye. "This girl is dead and your man is probably the last guy who saw her alive. Help us out here." Greg stared at Fin sullenly as the black detective finally let go of his shirt in an irritated manner, obviously disgusted by the man's apathy towards the dead girl. "C'mon, Munch. Let's get outta here. This guy ain't gonna be any help," Fin growled.

He was turning to go when he heard a muttered, "Brad, Brad Sinclair," spoken by the man behind him.

"What?" He turned back to look at Greg. "Brad Sinclair?"

"Yeah, that's him. Though don't tell my manager or anyone I told you." Greg glanced around skittishly. "He brings us a lot of business, not all of it legit, ya know? Like with the girl."

"He make fake I.D.s?" Greg didn't reply but a slight, yet visible, flinch let Fin know he had struck the nail on the head.

"Can you give us his credit card information or-" Munch began to ask but Greg cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"Look, just giving you his name could get me in deep shit. Don't push me for anything else." Greg went back to putting up chairs, communicating to the detectives that he would say no more.

"Well, thanks for the name," Fin said, motioning to Munch that it was time for them to go. As they walked out of the club, Fin's phone rang and he picked it up. "Tutuola… all right. We'll be right there." He hung up.

"What was that about?" Munch asked his partner with a slight impatient tone to his voice.

Fin's smile was small but it was triumphant. "That was CSU. They said they found the girl's I.D. at the scene and are checkin' it for fingerprints."


	7. some answers

**.some answers.**

**CSU Lab  
****Monday, July 19th**

The CSU labs were bustling with activity as the two detectives made a quiet entrance. A lab technician stopped his rushed walk for a moment to inquiry as to their purpose there and then directed them to a back corner of the building where things were relatively calmer and not as tumultuous. The technician seated at a computer back against the wall continued typing for a minute until Munch coughed loudly into his hand to announce their presence. The man turned and gave them a pointed look over the rim of his glasses that Fin couldn't help but find remindful of his partner. "Can I help you?" he asked in a strained tone.

"Yeah, we're SVU detectives, here to see the results on a print I.D." Fin answered.

The tech glanced over to another desk covered in a clutter of loose papers and files and picked up a file seemingly at random. He handed it to Fin and without another word turned back to his computer screen. Fin flipped open the cover and began scanning the document within.

"Well?" Munch asked testily after a moment.

"We've got a positive match for Brad Sinclair," Fin said.

"Oh? He do jail time?"

"Nope, works with the government. Issues licenses at the DMV."

"Let's go pick him up," Munch replied.

**…**

"There wasn't much to go on at the scene," Elliot told the captain in a tired voice, "No murder weapon, no prints of the killer's, no hair or fiber…"

"So, in other words, you've got nothing more to go on other than another dead body," Cragen summarized exasperatedly.

Olivia jumped in. "Well, we did get some kind of code off the girl. He carved it into her legs. Just seemed like a random set of numbers though."

"Can I see them?" Huang inquired from where he had been standing back, studying the board where the case info so far had begun to be tacked up and displayed for reference.

"Be my guest." She handed him a paper with the numbers written down on it.

The FBI psychiatrist stared at the numbers for a moment and then turned to Elliot. "Do you have a Bible here?"

Elliot seemed slightly taken aback by the question but he recovered quickly. "I've got one in my desk." He leaned back from where he sat on his desk and opened a side drawer. Taking out the large book, he handed it to Huang who took it with a nod.

Huang glanced at the cover. It looked practically brand new; the binding hadn't even been broken yet. "King James, good."

"And why I haven't touched it. All those 'thee's and 'thou's get me confused. It's why I always did bad in my English class when we covered Shakespeare," Elliot said, pulling a face to show his feelings about old English.

Huang sat down at Munch's unoccupied desk and grabbed a clean notepad. "What was the verse he quoted when the nun was killed?"

Olivia glanced at a paper for reference before saying, "Matthew, chapter five, verse twenty-nine."

Huang nodded and flipped open the book to the page. "Give me a moment and I'll have that code cracked for you."

Elliot looked at his partner. "Don't tell me it's that simple."

"Oh, but it really is, detective," Huang said before devoting his attention to the code. Elliot tacked up a few more notes onto the bulletin board while Cragen retrieved a couple of strands of licorice from his office.

"So what's the code?" Olivia asked after the lull became too heavy to bear.

"Elementary, Watson," Huang answered with a wry grin. "By leaving it on his victim, the killer wants us to decode it and discover his message. He knows that the only text we have to reference his code to is the Bible and the passage he quoted. When I first saw the numbers, I thought they might refer to chapters and verses but I decided that wouldn't be how your man would do it. Although he's highly religious, he's of average intelligence and not very creative in this area, so any code that he would make would have to be very simplistic, which it is. The code corresponds to the passage he quoted. The first letter of the passage, 'a', is '1'. The second letter, 'n', is '2', and so on and so forth." Huang shrugged. "He was trying to be clever but it's a code that a second-grade child could easily figure out."

"I can't help but feel stupid now," Elliot said with a sigh.

"If you have it figured out, what's it say?" Cragen asked.

"'I am righteous in God's eyes' on the right leg and 'Weep not for the whore' on the left," Huang answered, glancing at the paper where he had written it.

"'Whore?'" Elliot repeated. "Did he mean that literally?"

"It's a possibility," Olivia replied with a shrug. "We still don't know who she is or her job, for that matter. Although she's young, we've seen it before. That question should be easily answered though once we get the ME's autopsy report."

"Where's Munch and Fin right now?" Cragen asked.

"They're looking in on a ticket stub that was found in the girl's vicinity. We think she might have gone clubbing with someone last night, possibly the killer."

**…**

Munch and Fin stepped off the elevator and began walking through the third floor of the office building, searching for Brad Sinclair with only a picture for reference and no idea of where exactly his office was. "This is worse than looking for a needle in a haystack," Munch groaned as they overlooked the numerous cubicles and the shifting mass of employees that roamed through the prefabricated corridors.

"Yeah, which is why you ask for help in situations like this," Fin answered before turning to snag the arm of a passing man. The white-collar worker looked at him with some disdain and asked, "May I help you?" in a condescending tone.

"You know this guy?" Fin showed the man the picture of Brad Sinclair that they had printed from his federal employee record.

"Yeah, that's Brad." The man's eyes narrowed. "You're cops, aren't you? Is he in some kind of trouble?"

"We just need to ask him a few questions, that's all," Fin replied with a shrug. "Know where we can find him?"

The man shook his head and walked away without saying another word. Munch looked at his partner. "Yeah. That was helpful."

"You're looking for Brad?" a woman asked, edging toward them from where she had been standing making photocopies a few feet away. When the detectives turned evaluating stares on her, she shrugged with a small smile. "I eavesdrop. It's a bad habit but sometimes you need it in an environment like this."

Fin nodded. "You know where Brad is?"

"Well, I don't know exactly, but I can give you a good bet," she answered.

"Do tell," Munch said.

"You'll probably find him at this sleazy restaurant a couple blocks away. I heard him tell a buddy he was going there for lunch. You're not gonna find him in the restaurant part though. Check upstairs, where they run their 'daycare,'" she grimaced as she said the word.

"'Daycare?'" Munch repeated.

"Yeah. Brad likes his women young."

**…**

"Is that him?" Munch asked, jerking his head to indicate the man he was referring to.

Fin eyed him for a moment and nodded. "Yeah."

"Let's get him then." The two detectives walked down the sidewalk to where Brad stood close to a skimpily dressed adolescent girl, his arm hooked around her back as he whispered into her ear while pushing something into her palm with his free hand.

"Are you Brad Sinclair?" Munch addressed the man.

He turned and glared at them. "And what if I am?"

"I'm Detective Munch and this is my partner, Detective Tutuola. We're going to have to ask you to come with us to have a little talk."

"Hey, man! I haven't done anything wrong!" Brad growled, letting go of the girl. "I was just giving my niece here some birthday money. Isn't that right, honey?" The last question was directed at the girl and it was more of a threat than a question. She hesitantly nodded, not wanting to get embroiled in any trouble with the police.

"Is it customary then for your family to grope each other's asses when exchanging gifts?" Munch asked in an acidic tone.

Brad stared at him for a moment with an expression that said he did not understand what the detective was implying. Then, in one swift movement, he turned and bolted in the opposite direction. Fin was ready for this though and he quickly took off after the man with Munch in hot pursuit close behind. Brad was built like a runner however and probably had a pair of lungs that could have held their own in an Olympic race because he quickly put a city block between himself and the pursuing detectives and would have lost them if it hadn't been for a teenage girl who tripped him up and sent him sprawling head-over-heels across the sidewalk.

Fin hauled Brad to his feet when he reached the disoriented man while Munch panted out a halting "thanks" to the girl who had helped them. She grinned and nodded in acceptance. "My pleasure. That bastard roughed me up the last couple of times so I figured this was my chance for revenge. I hope you get him on whatever you're eyeing him for."

"Detectives!" Munch turned to see the girl Brad had paid running toward him, seemingly as out of breath as he himself was. She held out a plastic bag, offering it to the detective with a shaky hand. "Here. I ran inside and got this for you. You'll probably find it useful."

Munch took the baggie from her and peered inside at its contents. He smiled grimly at the girl in thanks. "Yeah, this is immensely helpful. Thanks."

"Just do me a favor in return and convict him," she answered before turning and walking back the way she had come.

"What's that?" Fin asked as they walked back to their car, an unhappy Brad in tow.

"Free DNA sample," Munch replied, shaking the bag slightly for emphasis. "At least these little guys will be good for something instead of only paying for that girl's next meal."


	8. when life gives you a lemon…

**. when life gives you a lemon… .**

**Office of the Medical Examiner  
****Monday, July 19th **

Warner looked up in surprise from where she was finishing performing an autopsy on a corpse when Olivia and Elliot came strolling into her office. "Hey, I was just about to call you guys," she said as she walked over to a sink to wash her hands after stripping off her bloody plastic gloves and dropping those into a trash bin.

"Did you find something?" Elliot asked hopefully.

Warner nodded. "And it's as strange as the LSD in the first victim. I found sperm in both of your victims but-"

"The man who examined her on the scene said the girl hadn't been raped though," Olivia said.

"Carl…" Warner grimaced. "I knew I shouldn't have had him go on scene for me but I was dealing with the corpses of a double homicide at the time and the detectives with the case were putting pressure on me to get the autopsies done ASAP. Carl's been with us for only a couple of weeks and he's not very good at solo on-scene examinations yet."

Elliot remembered their days with Cassidy and his frequent mistakes. He smiled and shrugged, "It's okay. Did he miss anything else?"

"Nothing else that was obvious, except after examining your second victim, I would say that it's a safe bet to assume that she was a prostitute. As for what wasn't obvious, I found lemon juice in both of your victims' vaginal cavities."

Both Elliot and Olivia stared at Warner with blank expressions for a few moments before Elliot said in a puzzled voice, "I must have heard you wrong, Warner. For a second there I thought you said 'lemon juice.'"

"I did. I thought the test results had been screwed up somehow but when your second victim came back positive for it too, I knew they were right."

"'Lemon juice?'" Olivia repeated in a tone just as confused as Elliot's had been. His cell phone rang at that moment and he stepped away to answer it. "How did lemon juice get there?"

Warner smiled. "I asked the same question. My research revealed, however, that lemon juice was once used as a contraceptive in Mediterranean cultures and experiments have shown that it acts as a spermicide as its high acidity kills sperm on contact."

"But if the perp was going to kill her anyway, why would he use it?" Olivia wondered aloud.

"Well, another proven benefit of the use of lemon juice is that it inactivates the HIV virus, reducing the risk of contracting it, and from my analysis of your victim, the perp should be glad he did use it."

"She's positive for HIV?" Elliot asked as he snapped his cell phone shut.

"Yes, and she has been for sometime and so has probably passed it onto many johns."

"Thanks, Warner." He turned to Olivia. "We need to get back to the precinct. Munch and Fin have got the girl's last client in custody and are going to start questioning him soon."

**…**

The captain of the Special Victims Unit stood in the observation room, looking through the one-way mirror at the man pacing the length of the interrogation room. Outside, Cragen gave his detectives brief instructions on how to deal with the man in their custody. "We've got him for soliciting a minor and making false licenses so use that to pressure him into telling us about the girl. Do you think he could be the perp?" The question was directed at Huang who was standing near Cragen, watching Brad closely.

The FBI psychiatrist shook his head. "At this point, I can't say for sure, but I believe it's doubtful. The killer you're looking for is probably not sexually active and, if he is, then he would only have sex with adult women, as intercourse with a child is against God's teachings."

"And yet he thought it was all right to have sex with a dead body. Somebody should teach this guy the meaning of 'logic,'" Munch grumbled. "And if he's paying so much attention to God's teachings, he should hearken back to the well-known phrase 'thou shalt not kill.'"

Cragen nodded to acknowledge Huang's assessment and turned back to his two detectives. "Then I want you to proceed under the assumption that he is not our perp." Munch and Fin nodded to show Cragen that they had heard him and Fin opened the door and they entered the interrogation room.

"So, Brad…" Munch took a seat at the table and placed a case file in front of him. He opened it up and made a show of scanning over the documents inside before looking up to make eye contact with Brad. "It seems that you have a weakness for little girls."

The man stood with his back against the wall and hunkered down in his large leather coat. "Everyone likes kids. Is that a crime?"

"It is if you have sex with them," Fin said from where he was standing behind his partner, casually leaning against the one-way mirror.

"What would you say if I told you they like it?" Brad asked with a sneer.

"I'd tell you that you're mistaking tears of humiliation and pain for tears of joy," Munch replied lightly.

Brad stepped away from the wall and slid into the chair on his side of the table. "Cut the crap. What do you want?"

"The girl you hired last night. What happened?" Fin asked.

He stared at Munch testily. "I didn't pay for any girl last night."

"Well, someone at the club you went to last night says otherwise. They saw you there with this girl." Munch slid a photograph of the girl across the table. "You know her?"

Brad looked at the picture. "Nope."

"Huh." Munch put on a perplexed expression. "Well then, since you don't, I guess that DNA sample that nice girl gave us today won't match any fluids found on the body." Fin surreptitiously glanced at his partner who gave him a confident look. Although there had been no fluids on the corpse to their current knowledge, Brad didn't know that and they could use that against him.

"Body?" He perked up. "What body?"

"That girl is dead," Munch explained, gesturing at the photo. "But since you say you weren't with her, I guess you didn't kill her and it's just a blatant coincidence that she ended up with a false license issued from the DMV by you." He paused for a moment before continuing with a slight shrug. "Of course, if your DNA comes back as a match and you actually did spend some time with her last night and you're lying to us, that won't be a pretty situation and my partner and I will be very irritated. So it would be best for all parties if you cooperated fully with us at this time."

Brad mentally digested this for a moment. "Well, say that it's true that my DNA sample comes out to be a match… hypothetically speaking, of course. Will I be charged for murder?"

"Unless you have an alibi, most likely," Munch answered, although he knew that they didn't have enough evidence yet to charge him even if they thought he was the killer.

Brad stared at Munch for a few minutes, weighing out his options. "If I talk to you guys, could you maybe let me off light on the current charges?"

Although he heard Munch mutter quietly, "No chance in hell," and Fin privately agreed with his partner, he answered, "We could put in a good word with the DA but there's no guarantee."

The man shook his head. "Knew you'd say something like that… ah, hell. Okay, so I did pick up a girl last night and fixed her up with a fake license. I wanted to go clubbing, didn't have a girl to go with so I figured a prostitute would work out. It did too. She made me pay a lot for all the time that it took up and the little something that I got before she left but it was a good deal. She got out of my car on the corner of Madison and East 67th. Said she would take it from there." He shifted around uncomfortably on his chair. "I was a bit concerned 'cause you know; a kid out at late hours, stuff happens. She gave me this look and said she'd be fine. So, I went home, got there no later than one. My roommate can vouch for me."

"And you better hope he can," Olivia said as she walked into the room. She looked over at Munch and Fin. "Warner's running the DNA sample against fluids from both of the bodies." The female detective glanced back at the man sitting at the table. "And you, you might want to get checked out for STDs soon. Maybe, specifically, HIV."

The blood drained from Brad's face and he choked out, "That whore was HIV positive?"

"What? Did I say that?" Olivia glanced at Munch and Fin, who shook their heads 'no' before walking out of the room. She looked back at Brad. "You know I can't legally release HIV-related information, even if the person is dead. I was just saying that out of friendly concern. After all, if you have unprotected sex with hookers, you're bound to contract something nasty sooner or later. Now I've gotta go and check with that alibi of yours so, until then, have a nice day." She smiled frostily at him before following Munch and Fin out and leaving Brad behind, pale and shaken.

* * *

Okay, before any of you say, "Jeril! Lemon juice as a spermicide? Girl, what the fuck are you tripping on!" I have some evidence for this! I found an article online at a trusted source that specified lemon juice was used in older days as a spermicide and it also had the nice ability to inactivate the HIV virus. If you want to read the article for yourself, check my livejournal where I posted the link just in case. My livejournal's listed in my profile under "homepage".  
And if you're wondering why I decided to add that lemon juice bit in; I thought it would be kinda screwy as with the LSD and since this fic is all about being messed up, lol, I thought it'd fit in well… 

Oh, and I hope Benson's thing with Sinclair at the very end wasn't OOC. o.o Please tell me if it was though… and if anything else that I write is OOC for any character.


	9. searching for leads

**. searching for leads .**

**Special Victims Unit  
****Squad Room  
****Tuesday, July 20th**

"Do we have _any_ leads?" Cragen asked his detectives in exasperation.

"Unfortunately, no," Elliot answered from where he sat at his desk, shifting through the papers present there. "Nothing new has come up and we've depleted all of our sources concerning the two victims."

Olivia hung up the phone and announced, "Brad's alibi checks out. Last night, his roommate confirmed that he got to their apartment around midnight. Warner said the girl was killed sometime between midnight and two a.m. but considering our perp's religious fixation, I think he probably killed her a few minutes before midnight so that she died on Sunday. Brad's out of the question because he couldn't have made it from Central Park to his apartment in less than a half hour."

"Any chance his roommate is covering for him?"

Olivia shook her head. "I talked to her and she doesn't like him. She said the only reason she puts up with him is that they've got a good deal on their apartment. She seemed pretty sincere."

"Well, there's got to be something we can do," Cragen said, moving over to stand by the board where they had all the victims and the information concerning the case displayed. "We can't just wait with our thumbs up our asses until this guy kills again." He tapped a photocopy of the second victim's fake driver's license. "Do we have an I.D. for her yet?"

"No, for now, she remains 'Jane Doe,'" Munch replied.

"Let's find her a name then." Cragen said, turning around to face his detectives. "I want you all to canvass the area where Brad said he picked her up, asking the local working girls if they knew her. She's got to have talked to someone in the time between johns."

**…**

"You boys lookin' for some friendly company?" a woman asked, leaning over to peer in the squad car, managing at the same time to give the two detectives inside a good view of her ample bosom.

"Isn't it a little early to be peddling your wares?" Munch asked, showing the woman his badge.

"It's never too early for a little pick-me-up, detective," the woman answered coolly. "What do you want?"

"You seen this girl?" Fin showed the woman a picture of the second victim.

The prostitute barely glanced at the photo before replying, "No." She stood, turning to leave.

"C'mon lady, you didn't even look at the picture!" Fin protested.

She spun on her heel and poised elegantly with one hand on her hip as she glared at the two men. "Give me one good reason why I should."

"The girl's dead and we're trying to find the guy who killed her. We think he's targeting women of your particular," Munch paused for a moment as if searching for a suitable word, "_profession_."

"What makes you cops care about women in my 'profession,' all of a sudden?" she spat contemptuously. "You guys only get involved with us when one of your upstanding citizens dies. Who was it this time?"

"A nun," Munch replied.

"A nun?" She looked taken aback. "What sick bastard would kill a nun?"

"When we find him, we'll tell you," Munch answered dryly. "But I think it'd help us to catch this guy if you looked at the picture."

"I'm not good with faces."

"Yeah, you're good with other things," the detective quipped.

"Just look at the picture," Fin growled. The woman looked at him, slightly surprised at the sudden outburst.

"Excuse my partner," Munch said, "He's been very temperamental lately, which is understandable considering that we've been combing this city the whole morning trying to get other uncooperative ladies in your line of work to tell us if they knew this girl or not."

"Okay, okay. I'll take a look." She peered at the picture for a moment before nodding her head. "Yeah, I knew the kid."

"What was her name?" Munch asked.

"Amber, she said."

"No last name?"

"Nope."

"Do you know anything else about her?"

"Look, we just worked by each other. I gave her tips sometimes but this job doesn't give us a lot of time to spill our life stories to each other over a friendly cup of coffee."

Munch sighed in frustration. "Any of your friends know her better than you?"

"Maybe." She walked over to the other three prostitutes that were hanging out in the area and pulled one of them aside. They exchanged some quick words before she rejoined the other women and her friend walked over to the detectives' car. "Lemme see your badges." The detectives showed her and she studied them before saying, "You want to know about Amber."

"Yeah, for starters though, what'd she tell you?" Munch asked, gesturing at the woman they had spoken with first.

"She said you two were okay," she answered with a hesitant smile, "but that you don't know how to hold your tongue."

"Maybe this is why you never have any luck with women," Fin commented to his partner.

"I'll have you know that some women find my propensity to speak what comes to mind very attractive," Munch said defensively.

"Until you turn that sharp tongue on them."

"Uh, detectives?" the woman interrupted them. "If you take any longer, I'm going to have to start charging you by the hour and I'm sure that won't look good to anyone who might happen to be watching."

"Good point," Munch said and turned to business. "Did Amber have a last name?"

"If she did, she never told me."

"Do you have any information that could help us? Family, friends, home, stalkers…"

She thought for a moment. "Am had a little place over by Central Park. It was pretty nice, she said, and she had a roommate to help pay for it."

"This roommate, he got a name?" Fin asked.

She shrugged. "Some guy. Jason, Jared, James; a name like that."

"There's a lot of names that begin with the letter 'J'," Munch observed. "Could you narrow it down, by any chance?"

"I don't know. It was…" She thought for a moment. "Jeff. Yeah, that's it. His name was Jeff. He went to some college."

"And I suppose it's useless to ask for a last name?"

She leveled a look at Munch. "Detective, if I had that much trouble remembering his first name, any chance you ever had at getting a last name out of me is long gone."

"Thanks anyway," Fin said and handed her a card, "if you remember anythin' else, give us a call."

"Okay. She also said he was gay. The only kind of guy roommate Am said she'd ever have," she added.

"Well, at least that eliminates a lot of the Jeffs in New York," Munch said sarcastically.

"Well, you're welcome," the woman said in an equally sarcastic tone before walking over to join the other women in waiting for business propositions.

"We should check out the college closest to Central Park," Fin said as he started up the car. "That's probably the one he's going to."

* * *

Okay, I don't live in NYC, so unfortunately, I don't know it's layout 'n stuff. So,I dunno exactly ifthere'sapartments that're fairly priced around Central Park.  
I will however, figure out the nearest college and use that one. I do try to keep up some semblance of reality in these fics.  
And if I went OOC with Munch in this, I'm sorry. I tried to keep his dialogue Munch-like, witty and sharp, but sometimes I think I screw up... 


	10. roommates

**. roommates .**

**Hunter College  
****695 Park Avenue  
****Tuesday, July 20th**

"Look at that," Fin said as he parked the squad car in the parking lot of the college. "The corner of Madison and East 67th, where Brad dropped Amber off, is just a coupla blocks away."

"And the apartment is probably somewhere in between," Munch said as he unbuckled his belt and got out of the car. They proceeded to a reception desk where a young man with sandy-blond hair and a nose piercing was working, pounding away at his keyboard with near-blinding speed. The man looked up as the detectives approached and stopped working. "Can I help you?" he asked in a pleasant voice.

"We hope," was Munch's reply as he showed the man his badge. "We need information on one of the students that attends this school. His first name is Jeff and he lives close by here."

"No last name?" the receptionist asked.

"None yet."

"That all of the information you got?"

"For now."

"Okay, well, let's see what I pull up here…" the man typed at his keyboard for a moment, peering at the screen intently. He turned back to the detectives and said, "Well, I've got five Jeffs here that live within a ten block radius of the college."

"What about a five?" Fin asked.

"That narrows it down to two."

"Either of 'em have classes today?"

The man looked back at his screen before shaking his head. "Nope."

"Can you print off those names and addresses for us?" Munch asked.

"Sure." The man clicked with his mouse and stood up to retrieve the document that printed. He handed it to Munch with a smile and asked politely, "Is that all?"

"Yeah, thanks." Munch turned around and he and Fin started walking towards the door.

"Who're we gonna talk to?" Fin asked.

"Jeffrey Adams and Jeffrey Schakowsky."

**…**

The apartment door had open to reveal a tousle-haired individual clad in a fuzzy, light blue bathrobe that would have looked more appropriate on a woman. The young adult man had stared at Munch and Fin for a short moment before he asked in a thick voice. "Who're you guys?"

"Jeffrey Schakowsky, I presume?" Munch said in a sarcastic tone.

"Yeah. Cops?" He looked confused when Munch and Fin showed their badges. "What's this about?"

"You know a girl named Amber?" Fin asked.

"Um…" Jeffrey thought for a moment and it seemed to be taking a lot of effort. "No, no, I don't." He turned and let loose an earth-quaking sneeze that made the detectives jump from the unexpected noise. Sniffling, he turned to face Munch and Fin, muttering a muted "Sorry."

"Do you know this girl?" Munch showed him a picture taken of the second victim.

"Oh my god." His blank expression changed to one of shock. "That's my roommate, Jacqueline. She's dead?"

"Yeah, she was found yesterday in Central Park."

"Wow, um, please, come in." He let the detectives into the apartment and closed the door. He gestured them into a small kitchen and they sat down around a small dining table. Jeffrey asked, "What do you want to know?"

"First, tell us her last name."

"Monroe."

"And when was the last time you saw her?" Munch asked.

"Sunday morning," he answered, reaching for a box of Kleenex to blow his nose, "When she didn't come back that night, I wasn't surprised. She likes to stay out nights sometimes. But after I came home from classes, I didn't see any sign of her and that made me worried, especially when she didn't come back at all last night. She never stays out two nights in a row."

"You know of any relatives?" Fin asked.

"Uh, no. I've never seen any pictures of her family and she only mentioned her parents and brothers in passing. Her friends at work might know more though."

"We've already talked to them and they didn't know much about her," Munch said. "But they didn't even know her real name so I guess we shouldn't expect any of them to be best friends with Jacqueline."

Jeffrey looked at them questioningly. "They didn't even know her real name?"

"Yeah, they called her Amber," Fin replied.

"You must have been at the wrong diner then," Jeffrey said.

"Diner?" Fin and Munch exchanged a confused look.

"Yeah, she worked at a little diner a couple blocks from here. Here's the address." Jeffrey wrote it down on a little flower-printed notepad and gave the slip of paper to Munch.

"You didn't know about her second job then?" Munch asked.

"What second job?"

"Jacqueline worked as a prostitute."

Jeffrey stared at Munch for a moment before shaking his head. "No, no, Jacqueline wouldn't do that. You've got the wrong girl."

"C'mon, man. You know it's her. Didn't ya ever suspect? Income seem odd for a girl just workin' at a diner?" Fin suggested this all in a non-threatening but cajoling tone.

"Yeah, sometimes I wondered," Jeffrey conceded. "But she was such a nice girl. Not _that_ type, you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

Suddenly, Jeffrey asked, "How'd she die?" Munch and Fin paused, not knowing how to answer the question. To relate all of the gory details to him would be cruel, but did he deserve to know?

"Did you read the paper on Sunday, about the nun who was killed?" Munch asked.

"Yeah." Jeffrey nodded. "It didn't specify how she died, but it said she got pretty messed up."

"We believe the same man murdered Jacqueline."

"Was it painful for her?" He sniffled, but this time not from his cold.

Munch nodded grimly and the college student picked up another tissue, dabbing at his eyes. "Poor Jacqie…" Jeffrey murmured.

"Don't worry. We'll get this guy," Munch assured Jeffrey as he and his partner stood up and let themselves out of the apartment.

"Should we head down to the diner and talk to Jacqueline's other coworkers?" Fin asked Munch as they began descending the apartment building's stairs.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea. See if any customers liked to harass her or something," Munch agreed. However, he suddenly stopped walking down the stairs and motioned for Fin to stop also. Putting a finger to his lips, he gestured towards an apartment door one flight down where a familiar, brown-skinned individual was putting a key into a door lock. After unlocking the door, Abdullah Ali entered the apartment and closed the door behind him.

"Isn't that the guy we talked to at the Abbey?" Fin asked and Munch nodded. Fin shrugged. "It could be just a coincidence."

"Coincidence, my ass!" Munch proclaimed, walking down the stairs and towards the apartment door. "You should know by now that I don't believe in coincidences, especially when it comes to crime or government conspiracies." With that declared he knocked on the door with a domineering air and waited for the occupant to open it.

The man who opened the door however was not the one expected. The man was tall, swarthy and had pale white skin that boasted of rarely seeing the sun. In fact, his features were quite the opposite from those of the man the detectives had seen enter the apartment. "Detectives?" He seemed confused, as were Munch and Fin, for this was another man that they had briefly talked with at the Abbey after the murder of Sister Abigail.

"David, are you and Abdullah roommates?" Munch asked the man at the door.

"Yes," he replied.

Munch turned to his partner, repeating in a dry tone, "'Just a coincidence'?"

* * *

Woohoo, I'm proud of myself. Found Hunter College and it worked out great. XD Yay for actually researching fics.  
Oh, and I'm sorry if this chapter wasn't the best quality/up-to-par. I'm sick and tired right now and it's past midnight, so forgive me. I just had to obey my muse and write and get the chapter done so I could have two new chapters posted in one night. Hope you enjoyed it though. 


	11. coincidences?

_A/N: Just wanted to give you all a little Christmas gift on Christmas day, so here's a chapter. Merry Christmas. XD Amd I hope you all have a good New Year._

**

* * *

**

**. coincidences? .**

**Apartment of David Waters  
****& Abdullah Ali  
****Tuesday, July 20th**

"Detectives, come in," David said in a pleasant voice, gesturing them inside the apartment. "What brings you to our doorstep?"

"David, who's there?" Abdullah asked as he entered the room. He stopped when he saw it was Munch and Fin. "Detectives? What're you doing here?"

"Do either of you know Jacqueline Monroe? One floor up?" Munch asked.

"I don't know her myself but David does," Abdullah replied, taking off a black jacket and hanging it up from a hook on the wall.

"Yeah, she's a nice girl, but her job leaves something to be desired," David said. "Why do you ask?"

"She was murdered Sunday night," Fin said.

"Oh my god." David looked shocked. "That's horrible. Poor girl"

"We think it was done by the same man who killed Sister Abigail."

"Abdullah told me about that. Oh my. This is terrible. Is there anything we can do to help you?" David seemed sincere in his concern but Abdullah looked slightly resentful, obviously wishing that the detectives had not come to talk to him and his roommate.

"Do you know if Jacqueline had any connection with the abbey?" Munch asked.

"She wasn't a fan of religion," David replied. "Her parents' strict religious beliefs were one of the reasons she ran away from home."

"I never saw her at the abbey," Abdullah agreed.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" David asked, gesturing towards where the kitchen was, presumably. "Water? Coffee? I just brewed a fresh pot."

"Water sounds nice," Munch replied.

"No thanks," Fin said.

David nodded, "Okay." He turned and walked into the kitchen, a limp apparent in his walk. Munch glanced at Abdullah, who was watching him with a strange expression on his face. When the man meet Munch's gaze however, he turned and left the room. David returned moments later, bearing the glass of water for Munch. "There you go," he said, handing the glass to Munch.

Munch thanked him and drank some of the water. "If you don't mind me asking, David, what's the limp from?" he asked.

"Childhood injury," David replied, rubbing his right hip with his hand as if to rub the limp away. "I was rock-climbing in one of those indoor systems and the safety rope broke right as I reached the top. I landed wrong and my whole leg got screwed up. Unfortunately, I also had an incompetent doctor who didn't help the healing process much and by the time my mother realized something was wrong, short of re-breaking my leg, it was impossible to have it heal right." He smiled. "Ever since that fall, I've had a horrible fear of heights."

"I'm not surprised."

"Anything else you guys need?"

"Nah, we're good. Thanks," Fin said and he and Munch left the apartment. Fin looked at his partner as they walked down the building's stairs. "So?"

"Abdullah said that the man he saw that night had a limp," Munch said.

"You think it was David? If Abdullah knows that it's him, then why doesn't he just come out and tell us?"

The older detective shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he thought we'd figure it out on our own and that way he wouldn't have to betray his friend."

"If it was David, it would explain why Jacqueline appeared to have gone into the park willingly with the killer. She knew him and trusted him."

Fin pulled his phone out his pocket as they exited the apartment building. "I'm gonna call Elliot and get him to check and see if David's got a record."

"Have him check on Abdullah too," Munch said and Fin nodded. As Fin talked on his cell phone, Munch wandered over to talk with a man standing ten feet or so away from the door. "Hey, you hang around here often?"

The man gave Munch a look that contained some suspicion. "Who wants to know?" He seemed to be around thirty years old and he seemed to be of Latino heritage, although his dark hair was bleached blond.

"Detective Munch," Munch answered, showing his badge.

The man glanced at Munch's badge and answered, "Yeah, sometimes."

"Sometimes being…"

"Now and sometimes early in the morning or late at night. Depends." He shrugged.

"On what?"

"The weather," he replied with an easy smile and tone that clearly said, "It definitely does not depend on the weather, detective, and you and I both know it but you can't do anything about it."

"Uh huh." Munch eyed him for a moment before asking, "What's your name?"

"Blake."

"Well, Blake, were you here early Sunday morning by any chance?"

"Nope, I don't work Sundays."

"Oh, so you're working right now?"

"No, I just stop by here on the way home from work to meet a few friends." The man's eyes showed no visible hint that Munch's questions were bothering him though the detective was sure they were. Dealers were usually bothered when the cops asked them a lot of questions.

"How 'bout Monday mornin'?" Fin asked, walking up to join Munch.

Blake only gave Fin a glance before nodding, still calm and unshaken. "Yeah, got here about midnight."

"You know Abdullah and David?"

"A bit. Nice guys."

"You see them come home Monday?"

"Yeah, Abdullah came back around one-ish, I guess, and David got here about two-thirty, three, somewhere in there. He was with a few guys too. Looked like they'd been out drinking."

"All right, thanks for your help," Munch said.

"No problem, detectives. My pleasure." He smiled at them pleasantly as they turned and walked away.

**…**

"What do we know about these two?" Cragen asked his assembled detectives after Munch and Fin had returned from their reconnaissance.

"Well, Abdullah Ali's clean as far we have any records of him but David Waters has been in trouble twice for driving under the influence," Elliot reported.

"And we suspect them, why?" Cragen turned to Munch.

"It's not just a coincidence that they both knew the victims and lived one floor below the second," Munch answered.

"Abdullah said he saw someone with a limp and David has a limp?" Cragen asked.

"Yeah, but if it was Abdullah, he could be saying that to throw us off," Munch pointed out.

"The guy outside the apartment building told us that they both came home late Monday mornin', though David was with a couple buddies," Fin added.

"What about Sunday?"

"Still lookin'," Fin answered.

Cragen was about to speak when he noticed a distraught young woman enter the squad room, obviously in need of help. Olivia's gaze followed his own and when she noticed the woman, the detective jumped up and hurried over to help her.

Elliot stood up, "Cap'n? Actually, Abdullah seems to have a juvie record but it's sealed. I was wondering if I could go talk to Casey and see what she can do it about."

Cragen nodded. "Okay." He glanced at his watch. "And go home after that. It'll be too late for anything else."

Elliot nodded and smiled. "Thanks, Cap'n."

"Just make sure you're here on time tomorrow. Looks like we've got something new to deal with." Cragen nodded his head in the direction of the troubled woman.

**…**

At the knocking sound on her office door, Casey Novak, Assistant District Attorney, sighed with an irritated air. "When will they stop?" she grumbled to herself, thoroughly annoyed with all the people who had been bugging her the whole day long. Unable to deny her presence in her office though to whomever it was outside of her door, she finally said, "Come in," with a grateful look to her clock, which noted that she only had another half hour to go before her hellish day came to an end.

"Elliot!" she said in surprise. The detective was one of the last people she was expecting to see as she wasn't currently handling any case from the Special Victims Unit. "What brings you to my door?"

"I've come to ask a favor," the detective replied to her inquiry, taking a seat in one of her chairs.

Casey sighed again. "Well, I hope I can help you out but I warn you; I have very little favors to call in anymore."

"We need the juvenile records of a suspect. A Mr. Abdullah Ali," Elliot told her, handing her some papers.

Casey glanced at them and sunk back into her chair with a weary smile at the detective. "You just had to make it tough, didn't you? Pulling sealed records is hard, but this guy's of Arab descent and you know how things have been about that stuff since 9/11."

"I guess it doesn't help either that we don't have a lot of evidence against him," Elliot said, smiling sadly.

Casey glanced over the evidence that Elliot had listed on the paper and looked back up at him with a look that said, "You're shitting me." What she did say out loud, however, was, "This is all circumstantial. Please tell me this is just some really bad joke that you guys are playing on me?"

Elliot shook his head. "No."

"Then I can't help you. At least, not until you get some better evidence then this."

Elliot stood up. "Well, it was worth a try."

She smiled at him sympathetically, knowing that he was just as tired as she was. "When you get something a bit more solid, come back and I'll put it through ASAP."

"Thanks, Casey."

"Anytime, Elliot."


	12. bring 'em in

**. bring 'em in .**

**Special Victims Unit  
****Squad Room  
****Friday, July 23rd**

It was Friday morning and the detectives of the Special Victims Unit were relieved to finally be able to refocus their efforts on their number-one case. Their investigation of the abducted child reported by the woman on Tuesday had ended well, with the child being returned safely and unharmed to her parents, but it had still chewed up two precious days of their week and everyone was feeling on edge as Sunday drew closer. They knew the killer would strike again and they were feeling pressure to find him and put him away.

"We've got less than 48 hours until this guy kills again," Cragen announced in the squad room although the reminder was unnecessary; none of the detectives had, or could have, forgotten the fact. "Someone please tell me we have _something_."

"We found a cabbie who drove a very drunk Abdullah Ali home at about four a.m. Sunday mornin'," Fin reported.

"So drunk he left an unwelcome tip in the backseat," Munch added dryly.

"What about the other suspect? David?" Cragen asked.

"We lose track of him after eight Saturday night. We have no idea where he was from then 'till when he went to work Sunday," Olivia answered.

"We talked to some people at the abbey and they said that Sister Abigail got on just fine with David and Abdullah but she and Abdullah were particularly close," Elliot piped up.

"Didn't Abdullah tell us he didn't know the sister that well?" Fin directed the question at the detective sitting across from him.

Munch nodded. "Yeah."

"What do we have against them that's solid evidence?" Cragen asked.

"Not much," Munch admitted.

"Well then, for all we know right now, they could have nothing to do with either of the murders. We need to get something more concrete." Cragen chewed on a licorice stick thoughtfully before suggesting, "How about you go and get them so we can all have a little chat down here? I think it's time they discovered how hospitable we police types can be." And, of course, it wasn't really a suggestion so the detectives dutifully stood up and fetched their coats in preparation to depart the precinct.

**…**

"Isn't that the guy we talked to the other day?" Fin asked his partner as they drove up to the apartment building, referring to the man standing in front of the building on the other side of the street. "He's sellin' somethin'."

Munch peered at the man through his tinted glasses and nodded. The man in question, Munch believed he said his name was Blake, was talking to another man who was glancing around with shifty eyes and although the detectives could not hear the two men, they would have bet money that they were talking in low tones.

Fin looked for a little bit longer. "Don't know what he's got, but let's go find out." They got out of the car and walked across the street just as the two men made an exchange, although of what, the detectives could not see.

"Hey boys!" Munch called out as he and Fin stepped onto the sidewalk about twenty feet away from the two men. "Blake! How's business?"

Blake was nonplussed by Munch's comment and merely stood there, smiling at the detectives politely as they approached. "How may I help you?" he asked, putting a hand on his associate's arm. The other man was looking decidedly uncomfortable with their current situation, having picked up the police vibe that the detectives' presence created.

"Just tell us what you're sellin'," Fin said.

"Helps with the paperwork," Munch added.

"Selling?" Blake shook his head, still calm. "I don't know what you're talking about, detectives."

"We saw your little business transaction," Munch said. "And don't try to tell me you were just selling the man Girl Scout cookies. I can smell those Thin Mints from a mile away."

"Just like I can smell a dealer when I see one." Fin's tone was menacing and that, coupled with his words, was the proverbial straw.

"Book it!" the other man said, taking off. This was, of course, a mistake, as Elliot and Olivia had been walking up the street towards the apartment building. As the man tried to run by them, Elliot's strong arms shot out and grabbed his jacket and used his momentum to swinging him around and smash him into the nearby wall. Shoving the man forward after he had recovered somewhat from the impact, Elliot frog-marched him back to where Munch and Fin stood with Blake, who still amazingly looked very calm.

"Check his pockets," Munch directed Elliot and then remarked to the man, "Running from the police. Bad idea." Elliot patted the man's front pocket and then reaching in, pulled out a baggy containing a small eyedropper bottle filled with some kind of liquid. Taking the baggy from Elliot, Munch turned to look at Blake. "What, pray tell, is this?"

Blake shrugged. "No idea. I've never seen it before."

"Oh really? Fin? Would you do the honors?"

"Sure thing." Fin stepped forward and checked the man's pockets. Sure enough, bottles containing the same liquid were discovered.

Munch looked back at Blake over the rims of his glasses. "Care to try again?"

"Acid," Blake answered with a slight sigh as he saw the futility of denying knowledge of the drugs.

"You ever sell any of this stuff to Abdullah Ali or David Waters?" Elliot asked.

Blake just stared at the ground, unwilling to answer.

"The DA likes cooperation," Olivia reminded the man.

"I don't rat on my clients," Blake said disdainfully.

"A dealer with morals. Never thought I'd see the day," Munch said, his tone sarcastic.

Olivia cuffed Blake. "Elliot and I'll take care of these two and get that stuff down to the labs. You guys go get David and Abdullah." Her partner was already Mirandizing the other man. Acknowledging her words, Munch and Fin proceeded into the building and up to the two men's apartment.

Abdullah answered the door after they knocked. "Detectives," his eyes were narrowed and his expression betrayed suspicion about their presence, "What brings you here?"

"We were just wondering if you and David could take a little ride with us down to the station. We've got some questions for you both and it might take a while," Munch explained.

Abdullah nodded, although very reluctantly, and let them in. He didn't seem to want any trouble with them as he said, "Wait here just a moment. I'll go get David."

**…**

"Where were you Saturday night?" Munch asked Abdullah who was sitting across from him in one of the interrogation rooms in the precinct.

"At the abbey, cleaning up. I told you that Sunday," he replied.

"About what time did you get home?"

He shrugged. "Late… I don't know. Three or four or something. I took a cab."

"What about Sunday night?"

"I worked until late and caught the subway and then walked around a bit before coming home."

"You walk through Central Park?" Fin asked.

Abdullah shook his head. "No, I don't like going in there at night. People do crazy things in there when it's dark."

**…**

"What did you do Saturday?" Elliot asked David. They were seated in one of the other interrogation rooms.

"Worked until about five, then went home. I was feeling a little under the weather."

"What'd you do when you got there?" Olivia asked.

"Called a friend and talked for a bit to make plans for Sunday. Then I went to bed."

"Who's your friend?"

"Jeff Schakowsky. We went out to a club with some buddies Sunday and then came back and crashed at Jeff's place."

"Why didn't you go back to your own apartment?" Elliot asked.

"I didn't want to see Abdullah and hear him chew me out about drinking," David said.

Olivia folded her hands on the table and asked, "Does he have something against it?"

David nodded. "Yeah, he's against polluting the body because he believes it's God's temple and all that so he won't take mind-altering substances of any kind and he doesn't like to eat foods that are full of artificial flavorings and preservatives and stuff. This is actually kind of funny to me because when he was younger, he did so much stuff that I'm surprised he doesn't talk like Ozzy Osbourne."

This surprised both of the detectives, who remembered Fin talking about the taxi cab driver who drove Abdullah home when he was too intoxicated to get himself there. "What kind of stuff?" Elliot asked.

"You know; all kinds of stuff. He liked experimenting and when he got bored with that, he started mixing old things together to create new experiences."

"What made him quit?" Olivia asked.

David shrugged. "He got religion, like they all do."

**…**

"So, Abdullah, tell us again about that person you saw Saturday night at the abbey," Munch said.

"I told you before; I didn't see anything distinctive about him." Abdullah's tone was weary and he fought to cover a tired yawn with one hand and still look attentive and cooperative.

"I thought you mentioned a limp?" Munch said in a querying tone. "Didn't he?" Munch looked over at Fin, who nodded in affirmation, playing the game.

"I guess I did then."

"David has a limp," Fin stated.

Abdullah didn't reply, rejecting the detective's bait.

Munch tried again. "Wouldn't that indicate him as a suspect then? He works at the abbey, you saw someone suspicious with a limp there late on the night of the murder, he knew both of the victims. Don't you agree?"

"If you say so." Abdullah's expression and his monotonous tone betrayed nothing of his feelings about the detective's needling. He looked at his watch. "When do I get to go?"

**…**

"I've answered all of your questions. Can I please go home now?" David pleaded. "I'm so tired and this chair is _really_ uncomfortable."

"It's supposed to be," Elliot pointed out.

"We want you to stay longer," Olivia said, trying to keep her voice calm and soothing. "We've got a couple more questions for you."

"How much longer?" David asked. "I've been here for three hours already. It's getting kinda late and I've got work tomorrow…"

"You're going to be here for a while," Elliot said. "I wouldn't plan on going to work."

"What? Why do you want me to stay?"

"There's some stuff you might not be telling us and we need to know everything you know."

**…**

"Keeping me here longer is just gonna make me not want to answer any more of your questions," Abdullah said

"Your choice," Munch replied.

"This is wrong!"

"Although it might be wrong, it's legal," Munch reminded him. "We can keep you here for up to twenty-four hours without charging you with anything."

Abdullah's eyes narrowed and he growled, "Am I suspect then?"

"Nope, just an uncooperative witness," Munch answered, a statement that everyone present knew was a lie.

"Well, since it looks like I'm staying, you can either keep me here and stop asking me questions or you get me a lawyer and keep asking me questions. Your choice." His smile mocked Munch as he echoed the detective's words from just moments before.

* * *

o.o So frickin' long... I though it was too short so I decided to add the interrogation stuff into this chapter and it just kept going and going... Guess the length'll do as a little apology for getting this out so late though... 


	13. mostly harmless

**.mostly harmless.**

**Special Victims Unit  
Squad Room  
Saturday, July 24th**

Elliot watched with his jaw set in anger as Abdullah and David walked out of the squad room with their lawyer. "Hey." He turned and saw Olivia standing beside him and she touched his arm. "There's nothing we could've done to keep them here any longer. We had to let them go. The twenty-four hours was up."

"We just wasted a whole day interrogating them and we learned next to nothing. One of them did it, Liv," Elliot said, shaking his head in frustration. "And we just let them go. Someone else is gonna die now."

"We just have to find more evidence, then we can put the bastard away and no one else will get hurt," Olivia reminded him.

"Can we get it before midnight though?"

"Speaking of gathering evidence," Cragen piped up from where he had been standing nearby, "do you two want to take a trip down to the neighborhood where those two grew up? Maybe you can find out what's in that sealed record of Abdullah's."

"Sure," Elliot answered with a nod, grateful to do anything that made him feel like they were making progress.

"Good," Cragen turned to the remaining detective as Fin was present in court, testifying on their case from earlier in the week. "Munch, you wanna make a call to the labs and see if they've got the results back for the LSD?" Munch nodded and picked up the phone as Olivia and Elliot walked out of the room, all of them prepared to do their best to figure out the identity of the killer before he struck again.

**…**

The door of the apartment opened up and a middle-aged black woman peered out at Olivia and Elliot, asking in a strained voice, "What do you want?"

"Faith Gabrion?" The woman didn't answer but didn't shut the door in his face either, so Elliot continued, showing her his badge. "We're here to talk to you about one of your former students, Abdullah Ali."

"Oh. Has he gotten into trouble?" Her tone was neutral as she said the words, as though she didn't much care either way.

"We're investigating a crime that he was possible involved in and were wondering if you would tell us about him."

"Well… I don't have anything better to do. Come on in," she turned around and walked away, leaving the door open so the detectives could enter her apartment. "What's he done now?" she called out from the back of the apartment as Elliot shut the door behind him and Olivia.

"We're investigating two homicides that he might have had some involvement in."

Ms. Gabrion entered the room, having pulled on a pink hooded sweatshirt, and she asked them, "What do you want to know then?"

"What was your impression of him?"

She shrugged. "He was an okay student, pretty nice to the other teachers and I, didn't give us a lot of crap. After his parents died though, things changed."

"What happened to his parents?" Olivia asked.

"You don't know about it?" She looked at them with something akin to suspicion in her eyes.

"No, I'm afraid we don't. Would you mind filling us in?" Elliot said in his most agreeable tone.

"Tea?" She turned and walked out of the room and into her kitchen. Olivia and Elliot followed and found her pouring them cups of the steaming liquid although they had not accepted her offer.

"What happened to his parents?" Olivia repeated after she accepted the cup of tea from the woman.

"They died when he was about fifteen years old." The woman shook her head as an air of sadness drifted around her words. "Murdered. Horribly too, from what I understand. They were good people. Did their best with that boy but after they passed away, things got a little strange. He was the one who found their bodies and it messed with his head some."

"Did they ever catch the perpetrator?" Elliot asked while Olivia sipped politely at her tea. When the detective noticed his partner grimace at him, indicating the quality of the tea, he made a mental note to himself to not drink it.

"They had a suspect, from what I heard. Even went so far as to try him in court but they had to drop the case. Not enough evidence or some such nonsense like that." She waved her hand in the air dismissively.

"Do you know the man they charged?"

She shook her head. "It was a tight case. No press allowed in the courtroom or anywhere near it. Their suspect was probably some bigwig's kid or something like, I guess, from the way they acted. No one really knows who they charged, only that nobody ever got convicted."

"You said he changed after his parents' death," Olivia reminded her gently. "How so?"

"He had no family and was going to get taken by Children's Services and placed with a foster family but his friend's father adopted him. David was a good Christian boy but you put two teenage boys together and you're bound to get trouble."

"David Waters?" Elliot asked.

"Yup, that's the boy. They were inseparable when they were younger. Abdullah went everywhere with David, even to church." Noting the blank look that this comment got from the detectives, Ms. Gabrion explained further. "Abdullah's parents were Muslim as was Abdullah until David converted him. This was a bit of a sore spot for the family and Abdullah felt terrible when his parents died, partly because he thought they were going to Hell because they believed in the wrong religion.

"Anyway, after he was adopted by Mr. Waters, David and Abdullah went a little nuts. It started pretty harmlessly. They took up the art of graffiti and completely dominated the graffiti wall nearby the school. But that wasn't enough and they soon began to paint all over the place. After that, they began to steal people's things and hide them. One afternoon, they switched every single license plate of the cars in the faculty parking lot at the school. It took the police a whole day to get things straightened out." She smiled at the memory.

"Were they ever charged with anything?"

She thought for a moment. "I think they got into some trouble over a couple fires they set. Some girl was unintentionally hurt by one of them, I think. Other than that though, they managed to get away with everything else without things getting official." Ms Gabrion glanced at a nearby clock. "Is that all? The evening news is coming on in a bit."

"Yeah, that's it." Elliot stood up and Olivia followed suit.

The female detective smiled at Ms. Gabrion pleasantly. "Thank you."

"Sure." The woman nodded in acknowledgement before showing them the door.

**…**

"Well?" Cragen asked as Olivia and Elliot walked into the squad room.

"They all said the same thing," Elliot answered, his voice reflecting his exhaustion, "We talked to five different people and each one said Abdullah and David were nice kids, although trouble seemed to follow them around. Other than that though, mostly harmless."

"The juvie record?"

"Apparently the two of them set a fire that ended up burning a girl. Abdullah got charged but he got off pretty light, from what we heard. Ended up just doing some community service," Olivia said.

"And it seems as though he made some kind of deal with the judge so David wouldn't get the charges on his record," Elliot added, "The judge liked the fact that he was a devout Christian."

"Test results come in?" Elliot asked, looking up from where he was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"That stuff's been sitting there for the last five hours," Munch warned him before answering his question. "It's a match. Same stuff."

At the questioning look Cragen got from Olivia, the captain shook his head. "We still need a little more before we can get a warrant. It's all circumstantial."

"If it keeps building up though, circumstantial evidence will get a warrant, right?" she asked.

Cragen nodded. "I talked to Novak and she said although she'd rather not, she could get us one on circumstantial evidence alone. But, and I quote her on this, 'you'd better have a hell of a lot of it first.'"

"Well, since all we have is circumstantial, I'd say we're getting close to 'a hell of a lot,'" Munch said, offering up a weary smile.

"So how about we get cracking on finding something more substantial?" Cragen suggested. He pointed at Elliot. "You though; go sleep for a couple hours. You need it." The detective started to protest but then, as a yawn split his face wide, he resigned to following Cragen's order and retreated from the room.

"Where's Fin?" Olivia asked Munch.

"Captain had him stakeout the boys' apartment in case one, or both of them, decided to go out for some extracurricular activities this morning."


	14. good morning sunshine

**.good morning sunshine.**

**Special Victims Unit  
Squad Room  
Sunday, July 25th**

Elliot and Munch had been working when the call came in. Olivia was in the back, getting a few moments of shut-eye, and her partner came in and sat on the side of the bed, gently shaking her into awareness. Rubbing her eyes with a weak fist, she asked, "Munch's turn already?" in a voice stretched from the yawn she muffled with the other hand.

"No, we got a call." This woke her up and she gazed at Elliot intently as he explained further. "A church in Abdullah and David's old neighborhood was hit. We're going to check it out. I thought you would want to know."

She stood up and grabbed her jacket from where it was hung up nearby as she ran a hand through her sleep-tousled hair. As she slipped the jacket on, she asked him, "Is it morning?" He nodded. She didn't want to but she asked the other question anyway. "Do you think it's him?

His silence was the answer she had suspected.

**…**

"Good morning, detectives," Warner greeted them, her face missing its usual cheerful smile.

"Morning. Same MO?" Elliot asked and the medical examiner nodded.

Olivia glanced around the building, noticing its partially burnt structure and a few stray firefighters on the premises. "He set the place on fire?"

She nodded again. "Yes, but it seems as though he did it deliberately away from the body, like he wanted us to find it intact."

"Who's the victim?"

"The local priest: Father Kirschbaum." Elliot's jaw flexed as Warner flipped back the tarp to expose the chest of the corpse. "From what I can tell, the killer removed the ribs premortem, as opposed to the first killing, and crucified the victim with them. The same saw was used, probably a small handheld, possibly battery-operated, and the copious amounts of blood around the wounds makes me believe that he probably sat back for a while to watch his victim suffer. Again, the heart was removed and appears to have been taken with the killer, along with the murder weapon."

"What's that?" Olivia asked from where she crouched down next to the victim's head, her gloved hand pointing at something embedded in his forehead.

"I believe that's a cross from a necklace," Warner answered. "The killer appears to have hammered it somehow into the victim's forehead. Postmortem, I'm assuming from the lack of blood surrounding the wound.

"He's escalating…" Olivia murmured as she stood up.

"Anything else unusual?" Elliot asked.

Warner's face adopted a grim smile. "Your killer took another trophy from the priest with him. Want to take a stab at what it was?"

"His kirschbaum?" Munch asked, walking up with a matching look on his face. It was a cold echo of his usual jovial expression.

Warner gave him a look but nodded. "That was removed premortem also."

Munch glanced at Olivia, who had a slightly confused look on her face. "Cherry tree," Munch offered in translation.

Olivia lifted an eyebrow at that, but her years in the squad and the previous developments in the case had numbed her to most of the surprise at that revelation. Elliot asked in a tone carefully devoid of emotion, "Is that all?"

Warner flipped the tarp back over the corpse and nodded to the detectives. "Yes, but if I find anything else, I'll be sure to give you guys a call."

"Thanks," Munch said and gestured his fellow detectives away. "I found something you two might find interesting," was all that he would say as they followed him to a bulletin board with pictures posted on it. Further inspection showed that they were pictures of the church's congregation doing various activities and also labeled pictures showing the families. With a smile that was vaguely triumphant, Munch pointed to a picture and asked, "See any familiar faces?"

Elliot and Olivia looked closely at the picture, the date on it proclaiming that it was taken a few years back. The picture was of a family, a tall man standing with his hands on two boys' shoulders. The father and one of the boys were Caucasian, but the boy was of obvious Arab descent with dark eyes that held a familiar look. "Elliot," Olivia breathed as she turned to look at him, her eyes wide in shock.

"This is their church."

**…**

"Has there been any movement?" Olivia asked Fin as she and Elliot got out of the car. Munch had already arrived at the suspects' apartment complex to work with Fin on how they were going to proceed and to wait for backup from the police.

"Nah, everythin's been quiet," Fin answered. "Last saw Abdullah arrive with a couple groceries bags about two hours ago. You got the search warrant?"

"Right here," Elliot replied, holding it up. They had stopped by Casey's office on the way over to pick it up after she had rushed it to a judge for a signature. "Where's the backup?"

"They called, said they didn't have any available troops at the moment," Munch said.

"How long will we have to wait?"

He shrugged. "Could be an hour."

Olivia chewed on her lip. "What if he kills again?"

"This is the only way in or out of the buildin'," Fin said, pointing to the door. "If he leaves, we'll see him." He paused. "Which of them are we talkin' about, anyway?"

Elliot shrugged. "We still don't know."

"What if he kills someone inside of the building?" Olivia asked, her expressive eyes still showing her worry for the unprotected individuals inside. When none of the other detectives presented her with a ready answer, she continued, "He's already killed Jacqueline; what if he has another neighbor he feels needs to be punished?"

"What do you want us to do, Liv?" Elliot turned to fix her with an intense stare. "Go in alone?"

"We've done it before," she shot back. "They don't own a gun. We outnumber them. We can do it."

"What if we underestimate them?"

"What if there's innocent people in there being brutalized, Elliot? What then?"

Elliot could find no answer to that and his eyes turned to stare up at the window of the shared apartment, his gaze searching the blinds as though he could see through them to see what they were up against. He turned to look back at Olivia after a moment, his face set in impassive stone. "Let's do it." He put a hand on his partner's shoulder. "But remember; we've just got a search warrant. It's not like we're planning on going in their guns blazing." She looked at him for a moment before nodding in acknowledgment.

"Why do I have the feeling that this is a bad idea?" Munch deadpanned.

"Maybe because it is?" Fin answered as he followed his fellow detectives into the building.

They stood in front of the shared Waters and Ali apartment, guns in hand and Olivia poised to knock on the door when they heard it. The faint sound was a low electrical buzz coming from inside of the apartment. It resembled the noise made by an electric razor, at least until the instrument being used hit resistance and then it had a grinding, sickening quality to it, somewhat like in horror films when the killer is using a chainsaw on his victims. Olivia glanced to Elliot with something akin to horror in her eyes when they heard a muffled scream rip through the air. Nodding to her, he stood back and kicked in the door, a feat that would take its toll later on in aching muscles and bruised flesh but he didn't care: he was only focused on the life that could be saved.

They moved into the apartment, Olivia going first with Elliot close behind and Munch and Fin pulling up the rear. Homing in on the noise, Elliot and Olivia followed it to a back bedroom while Munch and Fin cleared the other rooms.

Suddenly the noise stopped and silence reigned for a moment. It was soon broken however by the voice of the perpetrator. "Beg for your Father's forgiveness while you still can," the low voice demanded, eliciting a choked sob from his victim. "The Lord forgives those who ask it of him. Ask for this perversion to be cast out of your soul and the Lord shall exorcize it like the demon it is."

Elliot looked at Olivia and mouthed, "One, two, three," and then they moved into the room, bringing their guns to bear on the killer as they assessed the situation.

He looked up at them, his eyes sparkling with fervor and anticipation. "Detectives! How kind of you to join us." He tapped the point of the knife he held on his victim's chest before trailing it up to the throat as he continued. "You're just in time for the afternoon's entertainment. Care to take a seat?"

Elliot resisted the impulse to pull the trigger and managed to growl out through gritted teeth, "Put the knife down."

"Come on," Olivia coaxed, adding, "Nobody has to get hurt."

The killer's grin widened. "That's where you're wrong, detective. It's Sunday today; a day for sacrifices and the only sacrifices ever worth making involve a great deal of pain."


	15. here we are now, entertain us

**.here we are now, entertain us.**

**Apartment of David Waters  
& Abdullah Ali  
Sunday, July 25th**

"Abdullah, put the knife down and we can talk this over," Olivia said calmly.

"No, no, Detective Benson. We can talk just as well with the knife as without it so I really don't see a reason for me to put it down, other than the fact that you find it threatening and it might get me a bullet in the gut." Abdullah Ali said, grinning from where he stood on the right side of the bed. His white teeth contrasted wildly with his dark skin, just as the red blood present all over the bed contrasted with the room's predominately white color scheme.

There was one other occupant of the room: David Waters, who was spread out on the bed with his hands tied to the two corners and his feet bound together and tied to the footboard. He was pale and, from what Olivia could see, bleeding profusely from the mock crucifixion puncture wounds through his forearms and feet. His chest was bare and that gave her a fine view of the hack job Abdullah had performed on the man's ribcage. How David hadn't bled to death by now was beyond Olivia but, by the man's shallow breathing and the listless way that he lay, she doubted that he had very much time left.

Abdullah's grin stayed fixed on his face as he continued, "I don't care if I die or not. I'm here to preach my message and if you want to make me a martyr, go right on ahead."

In the short silence that followed as Olivia and Elliot thought frantically for a solution to the situation they were presented with, Abdullah looked down at his roommate—his victim—for a moment and then looked up again. "You wouldn't mind taking a seat, would you, detective?" He gestured with his free hand towards a chair on the right of the door. "I wouldn't mind a little bit of conversation before this showdown ends and by the looks of David here, it's all going to end very soon."

Abdullah cocked his head to his side and watched her hesitate. "I don't mind if you keep your gun, detective, even if it's aimed at me," he assured her. "I just want to talk a bit. Isn't that what you police prefer anyway? Talk over bloodshed?"

Olivia took a small step forward, keeping her gun trained on Abdullah. He curled his bloody fingers at her, beckoning her forward encouragingly. "Yeah, that's it. Come on in and let's act civilized." The words were so out of place in the insane situation that the detectives were in that Olivia had to fight from laughing at them, or at least cracking a smile. God only knew how Abdullah would react to being laughed at.

Olivia took a look around the room as she thought. Other than David's bleeding body on the bed, the room was orderly and clean and devoid of any other living beings. Abdullah watched her with his dark, intelligent eyes from where he stood by the bed and stroked his chin with his bloody left hand in a thoughtful, mocking gesture. "What are you looking at, detective? A partner in crime? By now, you should have guessed that I work alone."

"Is that what you call it, Abdullah?" Elliot asked from where he stood behind Olivia. "Working? Looks a lot like murder to me."

His eyes narrowed and he pressed the knife in his hand against David's neck threateningly, making a small amount of blood well up under the sharp blade. "Be careful, Detective Stabler. I'm not afraid to put this sinner out of his misery should you provoke me."

Something clicked together in Olivia's mind, like a puzzle falling into place, and she spoke confidently, "I don't think you'll do it, Abdullah. You wouldn't let him off so easily. Simply cutting his throat like that won't work; not for what you're planning. You like your sacrifices more elaborate than that. To better gain God's attention to them."

"That might be so, Detective Benson," he conceded with a small, acknowledging nod, "but any more delaying on either of our parts is going to ensure that my friend here dies without my help."

"See, Abdullah, that's what I don't get," Olivia continued. She had to keep him talking because she was at a loss as to what else to do and the fact that he had a knife to a man's throat as he slowly bled to death wasn't helping the situation much, "he's your friend. You've know him since you were both kids. Why are you doing this to him?"

"He is unclean," Abdullah stated simply in a soft voice as he looked down on his friend. With a gentle, almost loving expression on his face, he smoothed back the blonde, clammy hair that was clinging to David's forehead, the blood on his fingers leaving grotesque streaks to dry there on the man's ghost-white skin like some wild native war paint.

Abdullah looked up to meet Olivia's eyes once more, his expression fading away to be replaced by an icy stare. "Do you want to see how it's done, detective?" he asked, his voice barely above as whisper as his eyes betrayed a complete absence of human emotion. Before Olivia's mind could register what he was saying, he had turned, leaned forward and both of his hands were gone, disappearing into the bloody mess that David's chest had become. David gasped in pain at the sensation as his pale blue eyes stared upwards, focused on the ceiling as he murmured indistinguishable words, perhaps a prayer to God.

Olivia didn't know who shot first—she or Elliot—but the two bullets exploded nearly simultaneously towards the murderer. Time seemed to slow to a crawl for a few precious moments and Olivia imagined that she saw the two pieces of metal ripping through the air as Abdullah's ears still had yet to recognize the sound of guns firing.

Then time returned to its normal flow as one of the bullets missed, smashing into the wall, while the other slammed into Abdullah's shoulder. For a second, it seemed that he hadn't felt it and his brow remained furrowed in concentration as he moved his hands around in David's body. But then his eyes widened in shock as he looked over at his shoulder and the gaping gory wound that was there. His lips moved but no words were heard as he staggered backwards, his hands emerging bloody and dripping from David's chest.

Elliot ran forward and grabbed Abdullah while he was still in shock from the bullet wound, knocking the younger man to the ground where Elliot pinned him down and slapped a ready pair of handcuffs onto his wrists, the detective's hands becoming slick with the blood covering the other man. Olivia moved to the side of the bed and began talking to David as she tried to assess his condition. "David? David, can you hear me?" He was either too weak or too far gone to respond to her words though and so she turned, screaming to Munch and Fin, who were standing in the doorway, "Call a bus _now_!"

"Already did," Munch said, then glanced back out the door and down the hallway, the action almost nervous. "You might want to come see this."

Elliot stood up and touched Olivia's shoulder, the blood from his fingers leaving a mark on her jacket. "Go on. I'll look after him."

She nodded and followed Munch out of the room. He took her down the hallway to the other bedroom of the apartment. The door was open and Olivia's first clue as to what was contained inside was the twin trail of bloody footprints leading from that room to the bedroom she had just come out of. "John?" She looked at him and the sad expression that deepened the lines and age on his tired face told her what to expect.

Munch followed her into the room, talking as they stood in the only clear space in the carnage. "We found him when we were checking the rooms. He hasn't been dead for very long. His body's still warm. It looks like Abdullah tied David down in that chair there to watch while he did his thing." Munch pointed listlessly to a chair with rope still hanging from its arms and the imprint of someone's rear in its seat.

Olivia looked around at the blood-smeared walls, noting the place where "Leviticus 20:13" had been written above the bed. She stared at the mutilated body and fought not to feel anything. "Who is he?" she asked in a voice as soft as new fallen snow.

"Jeffrey Schakowsky," Munch answered, "a neighbor from one story up."


	16. hellfire and brimstone

**. hellfire and brimstone .  
**

**Special Victims Unit  
Interrogation Room  
Sunday, July 25th**

The interrogation room was stifling. The air conditioning in the building was broken and of course it had to happen on one of those days in which the sun rises high into the sky and beats down rays of heat on the people and buildings below like great marble fists. Abdullah Ali sat at the table in the room in his blood-encrusted clothes, his hands set in front of him palm-down on the table. They were clean, he had been given the chance to wash them, and he now studied the spotless skin intently as the two detectives prowled around him like caged animals as they baited him vigorously.

"Why did you do it Abdullah?" Elliot asked. His sleeves were rolled up and his forehead glistened with sweat beginning to bead and roll down his face in the stifling atmosphere. "What did any of them do to deserve what you did to them?"

Abdullah remained silent, his gaze firmly focused on the table and hands in front of him.

"Did you think you were doing God's work, is that it?" Elliot continued as he paced between the table and the one-way mirror, his eyes fixed on the unresponsive face of Abdullah. "Well, sorry to break the news to you but I don't think God likes what you've been doing."

"Abdullah," Olivia was sitting on the edge of the table, staring at the man with her intense gaze that she reserved for these times, "talk to us. We need to know why you did it."

"And how would I benefit from telling you, Detective Benson?" Abdullah asked, his eyes staying fixed on the table in front of him as an amused smile touched the corners of his mouth. "Oh, yes. That's right. I wouldn't."

"Abdullah, these people were innocent." Olivia's tone was almost pleading. "A nun, a priest, your best friend-"

"Whores and sodomites," he stated icily, "Unsightly blemishes upon the Lord's beautiful earth." His eyes flashed up to meet Olivia's and she repressed the urge to shiver at the look in them. Throughout her many years on the job she had encountered all types of rapists and killers, but there was something about Abdullah that was different: different and so very _wrong_.

"So you judged them and found them wanting?" Elliot growled, walking forward until he was standing against the table directly opposite Abdullah. Olivia stood up, giving her partner the floor. "Was that really your place to decide how they should be punished for their sins?"

"I never decided their punishment. He did." Abdullah stared at Elliot calmly, daring him to try to prove him wrong.

"Oh, yes. Leviticus, chapter twenty, verse thirteen: '_If a man lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them_.' " Elliot's eyes were full of contempt as he stared at Abdullah. "Of course you would draw on the Old Testament when the Bible still preached the 'eye-for-eye' sermon." He leaned forward, his blue eyes fixed on Abdullah's brown ones, and in his soft, menacing tone that he used only in the interrogation room, he said, "So, tell me. Did you know David was gay before or did you just find out today by interrupting some of Jeff and his morning calisthenics?"

Although Abdullah tried to keep his expression cool and unrevealing, his jaw flexed noticeably at this jibe.

"How does that feel?" Elliot saw the reaction and pressed further in an attempt to goad Abdullah into talking, into saying anything that they could use against him. Although their case looked good, they still had a lack of evidence to prove he had committed the first three murders and every little bit helped in the court of law. "Did he ever come on to you? You think he was ever attracted to you?"

Abdullah's hands had disappeared under the table and from where Olivia stood, she could see them gripping his knees white-knuckled, the chain between the cuffs taunt and shaking. And still Elliot pressed on.

"Makes you really question everything, doesn't it? When he went out for a night with the guys, what was he really doing? Did he frequent gay bars? The people who knew he was gay and knew you were living with him, did they think that you were gay too?"

"David had no friends," Abdullah stated flatly.

"Then what do you call Jeffrey?" The question was a challenge.

"An abomination," Abdullah hissed and the detectives could hear his barely contained outrage in his voice, "An example of the corruption that exists in this heathen metropolis. For those transgressors like him the Lord has promised hellfire and brimstone. He shall smite those who deny His existence and-"

"So what, Abdullah?" Elliot snapped, cutting him off. "In the name of the Lord, you were going to clean out the rat's nest single-handedly?"

He stared at the detective, his intense black eyes burning with an inner fire as he said, " '_And he cried mightily with a strong voice, saying '__Babylon the great is fallen, is fallen, and is become the habitation of devils and the hold of every foul spirit and a cage of every unclean and hateful bird. For all nations have drunk of the wine of the wrath of her fornication and the kings of the earth have committed fornication with her and the merchants of the earth are waxed rich through the abundance of her delicacies._'"

Elliot met Abdullah's fiery gaze with his own freezing one. "I should've known you would quote from Revelations."

Abdullah settled back in his chair with a contented air. "How well do you know the Bible, detective?"

"Well enough," Elliot answered, his expression guarded.

"And you?" Abdullah turned to look at Elliot's partner, his eyes questing.

Olivia looked slightly startled, having been ignored by both the men in the room as Elliot took over the interrogation, and the question had caught her off guard. She continued leaning against the wall, one foot resting against it in the classic 'Rebel Without a Cause' pose, her arms crossed, and after a moment's pause, she replied, "I haven't read much of it."

"That's a shame, Detective Benson. Its pages contain wisdom and wealth beyond anything that you could imagine," He cocked his head slightly to the side, his expression searching. "But do you believe?" When she didn't answer, he shook his head. " '_He__ that believeth not shall be damned_.' "

Olivia gave him a flat look. "It's so nice of you to be concerned for my soul but I think you should be more worried about your own."

"Oh, I'm fine." Abdullah smiled. "God's on my side or, rather, I'm on His."

Elliot's brow wrinkled in thought and he suddenly spoke up. "Abdullah, were your parents Muslim?"

Abdullah took his eyes off Olivia and looked instead at the other detective, his expression unreadable. "Yes," he answered slowly, "they were."

"How did you come to be Christian then?"

"I had a revelation one day as a young man and realized that I had been believing in the right God but worshipping him the wrong way. I left Allah behind and had myself baptized the next day and began to follow the teachings of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ."

"Was this revelation by any chance assisted by some kind of mind-altering substance?" Olivia asked, coming to stand by the table again.

"I'll choose not to answer that question," Abdullah replied coolly.

"Hey, we already know about your youth and the wild parties and drug use, Abdullah," Elliot said, "David told us all about it."

"And you would believe the words of that sodomite?" The word dripped with contempt.

"We would and we do."

"Than that makes you no better than he."

"How did your parents feel about you renouncing their faith and turning to a new one?" Olivia asked, jumping back to the original question. "I bet they weren't too happy about it."

"They never knew," Abdullah answered.

"You mean you never told them?"

"No, they were murdered before I got the chance to." Abdullah's gaze lifted up to meet Olivia's again and this time she could not suppress a shiver that at the cold look in his eyes.


End file.
